Reflections

Articles

Nancy Jackson

Reflections
May 15, 2003

Mothers Day was a very special day for me. It started out with thunder and lightning and immediately went into a heavy downpour. My family paced around a little bit, hoping that an Oz-like event would occur, where we could open the door and walk out into a world with sunshine and flowers. For weeks they had asked me what I wanted to do most for Mothers Day. Well, I thought it over and came up with one thing that I knew would be both special and rewarding.

Where I live we spent the last five months having winter. It wouldnt let up. This was the longest winter experienced in ten years. Great, really reminds me why I moved up here last year in the first place. Sigh. There was a place called Stratford, picturesque, lovely, quaint, sweet, and a perfect place for a picnic. A large pond of water sits with a sidewalk that runs all around it with fancy little bridges. You can picnic at the tables and then take a nice leisurely walk. It is quiet. Very few places are. But the nicest part about it would be the swans. There are many of them and they are protected and people dont bother them. It was exactly the place I wanted to go.

So plans were made, food for the picnic was purchased days before. I was careful in what was packed so I would be able to stay on my diet and yet have enough food for everyone else. Fruits, chicken, chips for them, veggies, salad, and other snacks were ready and waiting to be put into the picnic basket. But it rained.

My sweetheart started breakfast, I showered and dressed, took my time on my hair and makeup, and heard the call that it was time to eat. I love the weekends, it is his turn to cook. He is very particular about making perfect eggs and they werewellperfect. After we were done and enjoying tea, cocoa for my son, they again pace by the window and give each other looks. I didnt think of a backup plan, he says to me.

Thats fine, I said. I have my two favorite guys with me, my sweetie and my sweetcheeks, really it was all I needed. My son excuses himself a moment and comes back with presents and a card. The card he made himself in his nicest handwriting Ive seen yet. The word mother is written in the middle with at least thirty other words for mother he said. Words like gifted, terrific, loving, caring, comforting, best, awesome, funny, nice, and wonderful to name some. So yeah, tears welled up in my eyes. I made this too, my son says. At ten years old he is a softy. I really hope that doesnt change. From school he had made a vase out of an old wine bottle, decorated with tissue paper in two lovely shades of blue. It was done so nice you would think it belonged in a gallery-no exaggeration! Then he brings out a small box. To this I have to stop a moment. This was more than enough, the card was plenty, but still more? Inside were five ladybug candles in my favorite candles. He knows that butterflies and ladybugs are my favorite. Wow. The tears have found a way down my cheek. I hold my son close. Dont you know that everyday I thank you for being a part of me, I ask him. Of course he doesnt he is ten. Someday he will understand though.

Thank you, I said. Everything was special. My sweetheart shrugs his shoulders, he feel helpless, I can tell. I smile and suggest we play card games for a bit.

It is after twelve and I am having a blast playing rummy. Mostly because I am winning. I admit to being a poor sport. They may be letting me win today. Usually I would balk at that, but today it wouldnt be the worst thing in the world. I reflect the last few weeks my diet has gone well, clothes fit better, I feel good, things are as they should be. We agree I am on a lucky winning streak and call it good. Looking towards the window I am rewarded with yet another gift.

The sun is out, my son screams. I look over at my sweetie and see a huge chunk of relief fall away from his furrowed brows. A deep sigh escapes his lips.

Lets go have our picnic, shall we, he says.

Just as planned, I responded.

Quickly we throw the food into the basket, grab jackets and a vinyl table cloth, and also some bench pads. Sure its going to be a little wet but that wont spoil anything. Stepping outside the air smells sweet after the rain. We pile everything in the car and head out.

The food was delicious, the scenery was gorgeous, it was a terrific day. I saw swans, walked, skipped, and was in great company. I couldnt have asked for anything better. Later I watched them give each other a high-five. I shook my head and had to laugh. I sure hope they didnt think that the day was special because we came here. From the moment I woke up my day was special. They were there and we were all together. The picnic was a bonus.

Lying in bed that night I reflected on the good things I have. Many things stress me out. Most of the time I get lost in this great big world. Being a writer isnt an easy way to live. But in the end I would rather cherish my time with the two people I love the most. Mothers should be honored more than once a year, that is for sure, but there needs to be a designated Family Day. Because when all is said and done, they are the ones who love you the most.

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About the author: Nancy Jackson is a full time author and poet with works in Literati, Twilight Times, Anotherealm, Sonny World, and various anthologies. Her pasttimes include spending time with her loved ones, drinking wine, and lots of writing! Email Nancy Jackson: coryann93@yahoo.com

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