Generations of Mothers — Mother’s Day 2013

This week my youngest brother and his son arrived from Florida.  They were here primarily to visit my 86 year old mother, who recently declared “I’m not getting any younger” and demanded that my brother and, separately, my sister, come visit and spend time alone with her.  Steven picked up Jono and his son Charlie from the airport and brought them to our house, and my mother arrived about an hour later via her helper.  As she carefully descended the few stairs inside the front gate, she kept looking up to see her son’s face as he waited for her.  Her eyes were shining.  She is very little, even shorter with age, and my brother is tall.  He carefully bent over to hug and kiss her, his son standing just behind him, and I could feel her overwhelming joy in the moment of reunion, mother and son.

Last year, at the end of June, my son returned after spending 10 months in Israel (The Summer of Impending Loss, He’s Gone). The day of his return, my husband, our daughter, and I went to the airport and waited in the baggage area. I kept looking for him… and then I spotted him. The first to reach him, I was the first to encircle him with my arms and be held by his stronger ones. During that long hug, I surprised myself crying for joy, for the breathtaking feeling of a mother reunited with her son.

Growing Life

I have had a “dry spell” in my writing – a time when my metaphoric pen ran out of ink, and I couldn’t replenish it.  My ideas were all focused on family needs and transitions, my counseling practice, and more recently, learning the personally and professionally exciting field of neuroplasticity, how the brain changes itself, and how that can be applied to eliminating persistent pain. 

Now my thoughts and desires turn, again, to the traditional preoccupations of spring.  I am planting my garden, choosing plant starts and seeds, following the sun through the day to see where it lingers most, and planning where each plant will (hopefully!) be able to grow and produce its vegetables, fruit, or flowers.