I remember breathing a big sigh of relief as I sat down at the end of last Mother’s Day. It had been a nice day but I was caught up in “too much to do, too little time” – we were about to leave on a two week holiday, I had a nasty cold, and we were hosting several generations for lunch, including my grandmother. Relaxed entertaining has long been a goal of mine, but not one I’ve ever had much success with, and by the end of Mother’s Day I felt tired at best, vaguely resentful at worst.
My mum stayed here last night on her way back from boxing up my grandmother’s things following her death a couple of weeks ago. She told me that one of the few things written on Nanna’s 2010 calendar was “Mother’s Day – The best day of my life.”
I’ve re-languaged that someday-maybe goal: I’m not going to let anything stand in the way of being fully present every moment I’m with those I love. Committing to that one is a total privilege. Thank you, Nanna. I love you.