Postscript to my Mother's Day blog yesterday:
"The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness." - Honore de Balzac
I am grateful for the memory of my son when he was very young. We lived in Maryland and our first real home was in a hilly area. I remember having a seat on the back of my bicycle and I would ride him around our neighborhood. I did well going downhill and it was a lot more difficult coming back home uphill.
I also remember at the end of our block there was a grassy area between homes that led down a hill behind the houses to a stream. It was beautiful down there with moss covered rocks, lots of trees, ferns, and flowers. My son and I would walk down there often and play all kinds of fantasy games - making up all kinds of pretend stories.
I am grateful for the memory of my daughter when she was young. I remember the times we played singing star in the backyard and she would sing into the sprinkler heads that were perched up on poles as if they were microphones. I was the adoring audience.
I remember my daughter's "flip-a-thons". She had three close girlfriends and they would meet at the local playground and do gymnastics, hanging and swinging from the jungle gyms. I would end up being the only mother of the four invited that would come to their "competition". The worst part was that my daughter would insist that I "judge" them. That was a totally 'lose/lose' situation. Somehow I always managed to applaud my daughter and make the other girls feel like they were good too.
I am grateful for the memories I have of my mother. I remember taking the bus with her from the suburbs into downtown Washington, D.C. to go shopping. We adored our outings. Sometimes we went to the little shops in Georgetown and other times to the big department stores down downtown. I was young and it always made me feel so grownup to be shopping with my mom.
We would sometimes have lunch in a little place called "The Neptune Room". You walked down a very steep flight of stairs into the restaurant below. As you descended the stairs, there was a big picture of King Neptune on the wall above. There was a piano player in the dining room. I thought it was just totally glamorous.
I have not even scratched the surface of the countless wonderful memories I have.
This has been just a little trip down a grateful memory lane. I have loved it.
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