Good morning…
I woke up yesterday to a text from one of you: 
Right away I responded, with the fresh memory of our UGLY “crazy” popping out on Easter morning: “Thanks! You too. Hoping for less of a Mother’s Day meltdown. How about you? Ours has begun well, but it’s only 10:00 am. Enjoy your imperfectly rainy day.”
Thinking further back, I remember previous Mother’s Day meltdowns. The year I stayed home from church on Mother’s Day morning after our first of four miscarriages, since I just could not bear seeing all of the adorable-looking families dressed in their Sunday best. The four years I sobbing my way through the holiday, infertile and impotent, aching for denied admission into to the amusement park called mothering. The one year my husband forgot to acknowledge Mother’s Day with our four toddling kids, after I had given up a job I loved, freedom I loved, and flexibility I loved to become a 24/7 stay-at-home mom (to his credit, he never forgot again). Frustrated hopes, unspoken expectations, and imperfect moments, I have had my share of Mother’s Day meltdowns over the years.
I love that our stumbles can prevent major falls. I think our Easter “crazy” made me keenly aware that, though we can say “I’m sorry,” we do not get a do-over. Many ounces of prayerful prevention are much more valuable than a pitiful pile of regret. With growing-up young adults enjoying separate lives of their own, how we live holiday gathering by holiday gathering makes a huge impact. Our back-and-forth interactions shape our identity and influence the fertile foundation of how our family feels about getting together.
My husband and I were married eight years before having children, four years by choice, four years of painful waiting we did not choose. Now as we live with our aging family of six, without any significant others, without any spouses, without any grandkids, we are doing our best to establish healthy patterns together, fewer meltdowns, more fun, relaxing moments. Following in my father’s footsteps and to our kids’ chagrin, I have encouraged picture-taking each time we gather, holiday by holiday.
Who knows when our family line-up will be altered by a hoped for addition or an unexpected, unchosen absence?
Plant your roots in Christ and let him be the foundation for your life. Be strong in your faith, just as you were taught. And be grateful (Colossians 2:7, CEV).
…Sue…
