Monday, May 14, 2012

Mother's Day

Do you know how I spent this Mother's Day? At a luxurious brunch in downtown Denver? Nope. Enjoying a delicious breakfast in bed surrounded by the Sunday paper? Uh uh. Being showered with cards and gifts and flowers and chocolates? Not exactly.

Instead I was sitting in 40-degree, slightly rainy, very windy weather at my son's baseball tournament. It was cold, uncomfortable, and rather early in the morning to boot. Everyone around me was complaining: "I'm so cold!" "I can't believe this weather!" "Do you believe this is how we have to spend Mother's Day?" etc. etc. It was, quite simply, no fun.But as I sat there listening to these moms complain, a thought came over me that instantly made me feel much warmer inside:

There's nowhere else I'd rather be.

I thought about the friends we'd had who had suffered through years of infertility treatments, who would have given anything to be sitting exactly where I was sitting right now. I thought about the parents we know with special needs children, who will never be able to play baseball, nor lead what are considered to be "normal" lives. I thought about the empty-nester who had said to me recently, "I wish I hadn't stressed so much when my kids were young. I wish I had enjoyed it more. Now they are gone and I can't get that time back." And I thought about the friends who lost their parents at early ages, who never got to experience the joy and pride of having a parent cheer for them at various events and activities.

I thought about all of this as I pulled my blanket a little tighter around me and smiled quietly to myself. Nothing like feeling grateful instead of annoyed and frustrated.

The game continued, and my son, who was pitching, had a particularly good inning. He threw many strikes, and then finished it out with double play as he caught a line drive and then threw the base runner out at first. As he turned to leave the mound, he looked up into the stands. He found me, (who was cheering wildly) and smiled the biggest, widest, happiest grin - it was so bright it lit up the field. It was a smile meant just for me. I smiled back, just as largely, and gave him a thumbs up as his team surrounded him, slapping him on the back as they ran together toward the dugout.

There's nowhere else I'd rather be.

Happy Mother's Day indeed.

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