Beanie, who arrived home from college Saturday, got up and made pancakes. Yum. I found myself spontaneously and constantly hugging her. It was Mother’s Day so she tolerated it.
Then the girls started on the list of chores we made for them. Vacuum the pool. Check. Take the xmas lights off the bushes. Check. Get all of Beanie’s crap out of the garage. Check. No arguing, no complaining. Martha and I were reveling in how sweet it was that they are such close friends. I hope that lasts until their old age.
It was bright and sunny in the morning but quickly went to gray and drizzly. So we came in, the girls made a fruit salad for lunch and we watched a movie. Well, Martha watched it. The rest of us took naps in our chairs.
And then the girls presented us with our Mother’s Day present.
I don’t know how they can afford this when I can’t. The amazing thing is that Peachie, the girliest of girlie girls, assembled it herself. There is hope.
They grilled steak for themselves, swordfish for me, with asparagus and a tomato/mozzarella/ basil salad. All my favorite foods. And then friends came over with an angle food cake with strawberries that had some kind of sweet crunchy meringue coating with chopped walnuts on it.
I do not cook. But I sure do appreciate.
All through the day we received text messages from the girls’ friends wishing us a Happy Mother’s Day. Many of them have lived with us for short periods of time for one reason or another. They call me ‘Maja’, and Martha ‘Marebear’. We have formed quite the "family".
Sharing stories. Sharing laughter. Sharing love. Simple pleasures. I caught myself smiling. All day. We are all back together for the summer, our girls are healthy and happy, Martha and I enjoy each other still, we have a wealth of steadfast friends. Sometimes the abundance of it overwhelms me.
I have recently been using this bloggy space to document a hard therapy journey, which might give an impression that my life is filled with depression and pain and constant wrestling with ghosts and trauma. And sometimes it does feel that way. But that is not the story.
There was a day in my life when I truly thought I would not live to the end of the day. And then there followed a few years when I wished I had died that day. I had nothing to live for. But that slowly changed and I began to live and love again. And then I had children and for the first time, I could see an amazing future. And it has been amazing.
I remember years ago when Jean, my closest friend and mentor, met Daphne for the first time. We had dinner together and they talked as if they had known each other for years. At the end of that evening Jean turned to me and said “you are one lucky fuck.” And I smiled because I knew I was.
I can’t imagine what she would say if she could see the bounty of my life now. I am still smiling. And I am still one lucky fuck.