Monday, July 16, 2012

Is It Too Late For A Mother's Day Post?

Even though it has been over two months since Mother's Day, I had a post in mind, and as usual, I procrastinated and never wrote it. I hope that everyone had a gentle Mother's Day. If you have a child or children in Heaven, I hope that someone remembered and let you know that they remembered, too.
We took all our children and families to Outback, as that is one restaurant that everyone can agree upon. We also honor all the yearly birthday celebrants since hubby and I only take our family out (with us paying for it) this one time a year. I received some beautiful flowers in a special vintage vase - the vase has flowers on it that look like Capidemonte roses - and I also received some wonderful scrapbooking material, photo albums, and some books I had on my wish list. I  had a great time and think everyone else did as well.

Mother's Day Gift Exchange, 2011

I participated in a BLM Mother's Day gift exchange last year and the specifications were that we had to send our partner some kind of bouquet of flowers. The lady who had my name is a wonderful artist, Amy McCarter. Amy incorporated my favorite colors of pink and blue, adding sweet lacy embellishments. I just love this painting! She took this photo and gave me permission to use it on my blog. And here I am doing that, a year later.
My sincere thanks go out to all of you who have prayed for me and continue to do so. I am feeling a bit better. I have felt surrounded by your love and prayers ever since I published my last post. What an outstanding community I am a part of!
In closing, I would like to leave you with a poem I found months ago and saved for this occasion. It is very old fashioned, but I love old fashioned things.

            by Gladys McKee

Something of you I own and wear,
Curve of mouth, color of hair.
And other things that Time proves true
Are part of me, and were part of you.
Clean lines of wash by Monday noon,
A whistle for worry, a quarter moon.
Spoiling children, and such small things
As teapots, bracelets, and silver rings.
Old books and lilacs, faint cool rosewater -
In these you live on as long as a daughter
Has tongue to tell and heart to hold
This curious coin of mother gold.
Something of you I wear and own,
Frail as a dream, certain as stone.

Love to all of you - I so appreciate everyone of you. Many thanks to those of you who remember my little Meredith Helen, my first little girl, in any way. Those of you who walk this same road know how important those little remembrances are to one's heart.