{"id":3533,"date":"2012-05-10T06:00:25","date_gmt":"2012-05-10T11:00:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/michaboyett\/?p=3533"},"modified":"2012-05-09T21:20:43","modified_gmt":"2012-05-10T02:20:43","slug":"fresh-flowers-with-dew-a-mother%e2%80%99s-day-reflection-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/michaboyett\/2012\/05\/fresh-flowers-with-dew-a-mother%e2%80%99s-day-reflection-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Fresh flowers with dew: A Mother\u2019s Day reflection"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

Today, because I spent last night exhausted and grumpy\u2013it was one of those loooong days of mothering\u2013<\/em>I\u2019m reposting what I wrote for Mother\u2019s Day last year. As I reread this post, I was surprised that I had been thinking about earnestness vs \u201csnarky emotionlessness\u201d<\/a> even then. H<\/em>appy Mother\u2019s Day to the mamas out there. Eat some chocolate and go to bed early, okay? <\/em><\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

http:\/\/vmburkhardt.tumblr.com via Pinterest<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Sunday is Mother\u2019s Day. Chris\u2019 step-mom just sent me a Mother\u2019s Day letter her grandfather had written to his mother from a foxhole in World War I. It was so gentle hearted and earnest.\u00a0He even told his \u201cMother dear\u201d that come morning he would \u201csteal out from my little dugout and take some fresh flowers with dew and I\u2019ll wear them all day long and each time these little bells tinkle over my heart they will be chiming my love for you.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Of course, our culture cringes at earnestness. I\u2019m convinced that our ironic snarky emotionlessness is our greatest fault as a generation. I\u2019m just as guilty as anyone in sarcastic love-showing. I\u2019m much more comfortable telling a friend I love them and then adding in a little snide joke just so the love doesn\u2019t get too uncomfortable.<\/p>\n

But, there\u2019s something in a mother\u2019s heart that longs for her grown son, away at war in a foxhole, to pick some flowers (sprinkled with dew if possible) and wear them all day in her honor<\/strong>. Doesn\u2019t that just choke your heart up a little?<\/p>\n

A couple of months ago I had a conversation with a friend who was sharing a little about the suicide of a close friend of his. It had been almost a year since his friend had died and he was contemplating calling the man\u2019s mother. My friend said, \u201cMicha, she must have such a feeling of rejection. To lose a child that way, even a grown one\u2013must feel like all you gave was for nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n

That caught me off guard. I\u2019d never gone farther in my mind than the immediate suffering of that kind of loss. I\u2019d never considered how a mother might feel as though every thing she had provided for that child (his very life!) was not only unappreciated but rejected.<\/p>\n

I looked at my friend and considered the process I was in (still am in) of teaching August to use the potty. I thought of the hours and days spent coaxing and convincing, of cleaning poop out of his underwear, the stories read and told on the potty, the stickers\u2014all for what? To make him a man who can thrive in this world. To grow him up.<\/p>\n

Of course, we don\u2019t keep count of what we do for our children. It\u2019s ridiculous and rarely even something we consider (except on really bad days!). But that thought hasn\u2019t left me.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t need my kids to thank me. What I long for is for them to take what I\u2019ve given them and multiply it:<\/strong> I want them to give themselves away in service. I long for them to use the minds I\u2019ve whispered the ABC\u2019s into. I hope the hours we spend pretending will build them into men who create beautiful things. I\u2019m teaching August to be kind to friends, to share, to introduce himself to someone new. My hope is that he\u2019ll love people, hold tight to dear friendships, and forgive with sincerity.<\/p>\n

And I hope that the moments I wait for him in the park while he picks and picks and picks flowers, off in some unknown toddler world, will result in the kind of grown son who picks early morning dew coated flowers in my honor on Mother\u2019s Day, wherever he is: foxhole or not<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Today, because I spent last night exhausted and grumpy\u2013it was one of those loooong days of mothering\u2013I\u2019m reposting what I wrote for Mother\u2019s Day last year. As I reread this post, I was surprised that I had been thinking about earnestness vs \u201csnarky emotionlessness\u201d even then. Happy Mother\u2019s Day to the mamas out there. Eat […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":999,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[83],"class_list":["post-3533","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-motherhood","tag-mama-life"],"yoast_head":"\nFresh flowers with dew: A Mother\u2019s Day reflection - Micha Boyett<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Today, because I spent last night exhausted and grumpy--it was one of those loooong days of mothering--I'm reposting what I wrote for Mother's Day last\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/michaboyett\/2012\/05\/fresh-flowers-with-dew-a-mother\u2019s-day-reflection-2\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Fresh flowers with dew: A Mother\u2019s Day reflection - 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