As I considered what to write about on this Memorial weekend, my memory floated back to the year my brother and I muddled our way through May gift-giving. That May was the first year we were old enough to consider buying a Mother’s Day present. I was probably in first grade and my bro in second.
I don’t recall how we organized the outing or who dropped us off to shop. But I do remember that we figured the drugstore would contain the perfect gift for Mom. The drugstore and the grocery store were the two places we thought about when it came to purchasing items.
As we meandered through the store, looking for options, we knew we were limited by our budget. Both of us received a quarter each week. Thus far in our lives, we had only spent the money buying candy at our neighborhood’s tiny grocery.
Eventually, after much agonizing, we landed on not one but two perfect items for Mom: a box of Russell Stover chocolates and a bouquet of plastic flowers. Our finances didn’t allow for a card.
Holiday Mashup
After we proudly handed the items to Mom, she exclaimed over how wonderful we were. Then she did mention–casually–that the flowers were meant to be laid on graves for Memorial Day.
I don’t know how my brother responded, but I was horrified that our small offerings managed to intermingle the two May events. I guess Mom told us because she wanted to guarantee this was the only Mother’s Day in which she was honored in such a manner.
That silly occasion reminds me that whatever we have to offer on May’s two most important days, our small gifts are expressions of the love and respect we hold for our living mothers and for those loved one who have passed–especially for those who have died in service to our country.
So take a moment in the midst of our three-day spree of not working to thank God for those who gave us their all. Their offerings were generous beyond measure.
Flowers image by Petra from Pixabay
Candle image by NoName_13 from Pixabay
He sits at a McDonald’s table
on a rainy Wednesday morn,
drinks his coffee as he’s able
and contemplates the ancient thorn
from more than fifty years ago,
still so fresh in blood and pain,
while moms and toddlers come and go,
servers wonder how long he’ll remain
looking into distant space
and into another time
where God’s love and where God’s grace
seemed unable to define
the lifetime lived in just one year
for which he still can’t shed a tear.
Loss is ever with us. It’s a chronic heartache.
Lovely, Janet.
Thank you, Janet.
What a wonderful story. Thank you for sharing it
You’re so welcome. It brought back sweet memories of my mom and that time in my life.
It is good to pause and remember. I was reading through the Harry Potter books and realized, I too can see thestrals. Remembering my dad, my step dad, and my husband’s parents today.
Savoring memories is an important pastime.
I hope the entire team at Books & Such enjoyed a meaningful and refreshing Memorial Day weekend. I am so grateful for the way you all serve and encourage writers—it doesn’t go unnoticed. Thank you for all you do!
That’s so kind of you to say, Aleisha. Thank you.
Janet, your words touched my heart so much. You reminded me of the time I wrapped a box that included only a note to my mother that read “all my love and kisses” because I had no money as a kid to buy her a gift. Loss is so hard. I miss my mother daily. I can’t imagine how hard it is to lose a loved one to war. Thank you for this reminder that simple gifts stay with us, that the love we have for each other is everlasting.
Shelli, I’m sure your mom thought that was the best gift she could ever receive. Your story is so sweet.