Remembering

Christmas was always a bittersweet time for my grandmother. As a child, I always knew something was not quite right for her around this time of year...even though the presents were piled around the tree and our family was gathered together. It wasn't until I was much older and had children of my own that I could really grasp the reason why. And now, since she is gone, I can only imagine the suffering she experienced. She didn't talk about him often...but around the holidays his name usually came up...because her second born child, David, wasn't there with us. Because he never came home from Vietnam. And although I am grateful for his service and his sacrifice...I still wish it had been different...for her. By the way, his birthday was the day after Christmas.

Rewind to...my mommie's day

It really didn't start out the way I envisioned it in my head. Quite the opposite in fact. I awoke to a silent house and started my typical routine....tidying the kitchen from the day before while weighing my options. Do I wake my family and spoil any surprise they have planned for me or do I continue to go about my morning like it's any other? I quickly decided to go for an early ride...leaving them free to make my mother's day memorable. Returning about 45 minutes later, I expected to enter the kitchen to find my favorite breakfast awaiting, cards and flowers covering the countertops, and my girls anxiously anticipating my arrival. Nope. Alissa was still under the covers, Kinsey was in the office computing away, and Steven was stretched out on the sofa finishing the remnants of his omelete. Unable to hide my disappointment, I started opening kitchen cupboards a little too loudly, grabbed my swiffer and started cleaning to lessen my hurt. Instantly, my family came alive. I could almost read their minds, "Uh-oh...mom's mad!" But, I wasn't having any of it. After putting the swiffer stick away just a little too vigorously, I stomped my way to the shower and turned on the stream of water...on the verge of tears. While waiting for the water to heat up, Kinsey approached me from behind with a hug and a darling computer-generated card. The tears started rolling. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a hand decorated envelope on my bed. Alissa had snuck in from her room (she wasn't asleep at all) and placed the poem she composed...just for me...on my pillow. Upon reading and rereading their heart felt sentiments, I broke down. Sobbing uncontrollably, I hugged my girls close and knew that this was the best mommie's day moment ever...because it will forever be burned into my memory...the bad, the mad, and most importantly, the love. It didn't hurt that we followed that entire morning scene with an early lunch at one of my fave's, Dolly's, and canoeing on the Estero River. (A hidden treasure...by the way!)

bubbles...

whether you've been working on a piece of juicy gum ensuring it's the perfect texture so you can effortlessly stretch it and smooth it between your teeth and tongue...creating the most magnificent pink orb right before it pops. or whether you've been happily soaking in a sudsy tub filled to the brim, right up to the edge of the overflow drain, and the scented suds are tickling your nose begging you to collect a huge handful in your raisin-puckered fingers and just blow...somehow bubbles hold the promise of magic for me.

and true magic unfolded before my very eyes when...after an evening of putt-putt golf with my girls and a few of their bestest friends...alissa and kinsey discovered some "come back again" favors on the checkout ledge. and relished the simple joy of gently dipping those sticky little wands into their neon-colored plastic tubes...making certain they didn't lose their tenuous grasp as they carefully created those shimmering bulbous delights...again and again.

c'mon...who doesn't love bubbles?