May 13, 2026
I hope that those of you who
are mothers had a wonderful Mother’s Day on Sunday. I’m very much like my own
mother, when it comes to this annual celebration. Like her, I don’t really care
if I receive any gifts or not. As long as I hear from my family, I’m good.
This year, as most years, I
did hear from them all. That’s easy for our daughter as she does live here with
us. So, she took it a step further and arranged for her son to visit so that together
they could do the jobs that have been nagging at me—and that I can no longer
accomplish all on my own. And which, truth be told, she can’t either. She
needed some serious muscle.
I love a good spring cleaning,
and this past weekend saw the drapes and carpet in my living room totally
refreshed. Window opened, overhead fan on to circulate the lovely spring-like
air, I was a happy woman.
Then on Monday the girls
bought and then prepared dinner—grilled steak, garlic shrimp, roasted potatoes.
I had a green salad with my own home-made dressing. Usually, I’m the only one
who indulges in this, but my second daughter opted to have some as well. She
really liked my dressing, and I promised I would make some up for her.
It’s a simple combination of
olive oil, honey, apple cider vinegar and “salad herbs”. I make it at least a
few hours before I’m going to eat it so that everything can blend properly.
And as one might expect on
Mother’s Day there were flowers. I do love the flowers I get—hanging baskets
from each of my grown children. My porch is once more properly adorned, a place
of beauty and greenery—along with my wonderful wind chimes—to make an appealing
place for a brief respite.
I used to spend a lot of time
outside but have curtailed that practice over the last few years in deference
to my arthritis. But I hate not going outside, so I’ve decided that I really don’t
care if I look silly on the porch with a blanket over my legs in spring or
summer. And a sweater over my shoulders which also tend to ache lately, too.
We had our Mother’s Day feast
on Monday so that both girls could be there. They’re both busy with sometimes
competing schedules. Moving a celebration is an accommodation that is easy to
make, in order that we can all be together.
The very best gift that my
family can give me, the one I cherish over everything else is, of course, the
gift of themselves, and their time spent with me.
Nothing makes me happier than
when I am surrounded by my loved ones. Because when they are here, they are not
single beings in one place at one time. They have with them a flavor of every
memory we’ve made together. I see them as they are, and as they were. Good
times shared are never farther away than those memories.
Those memories—mine and their
own—form the story of us. And that story is filled with all that we are, have
been, and will be. It is a priceless, priceless treasure.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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