I can’t find the just-right word to describe the moment I open a gift from my mom.
Experience.
Adventure.
Delightful.
Episodic.
To all the moms out there who send gifts on their own terms – authentic, honest and wrapped in love or newspaper or comic strips – I want us all to remember that laughter is the best gift.
The Reading Experience
Some of the neatest conversations I have with my mom are around literature. She faithfully visits her local library and picks up three books at a time.
She hates fiction – “Why would I read made up stories that are dumb?” she asked me once. She loves nonfiction, as you will notice from the books shared.
Each book she sends to me is a treasure. Some of the most recent titles are here:
Stephen King’s On Writing to explore craft. I have read and re-read this book. For anyone wanting to begin or improve their writing approach and technique, this is for you.
Upstairs Girls: Prostitution in the American West by Michael Rutter. My favorite story in the collection: "Madame Moustache, The Gambling Madam." Yes, a picture in the story shows exactly what the title suggests.
Lady Long Rider: Alone Across America on Horseback by Bernice Ende. A modern story of traveling on horseback from Montana to New Mexico. The modern lives mirror those of the homesteaders, battling weather, wildlife, and hard work to survive.
The Fashion Adventure
The sweater from Amy’s Resale, purchased for two dollars.
The sweater she bought for herself and ended up not liking.
A pair of snow boots that didn’t fit her.
(Clearly, it’s cold where she lives).
The Funny Delights
Mouse heads in fudge. The mouse heads are fake. The fudge, real.
A half-eaten bag of sugary-sweet jelly beans. She hates the yellow and orange and pink ones (those are the only ones left in the bag).
An already burned candle. The scent made her gag.
Episodic.
The Meaningful
Her art: a sunflower she designed and colored using a mixed medium approach.
Her thoughtfulness: the coffee cup with the perfect saying of love for a daughter or scene of a common memory (horses, irises, books).
Her practicality: the leather journal with an antique clasp and vintage paper.
A mom’s gifts defy time and distance.
Just how it should be.
Today’s bonus content is a poem I wrote and dedicated to my mom, Valerie.
Cross Stitch
Threads of patient artistry
Tapestries of memories so fine
Stitches of stories woven true
A masterpiece: my mom’s design.
Fingers, tender and crooked, weave
Tales with each colored strand
Needles threaded with love
A creation: her creative hand.
As suns set and air cools
Her needle dances
Cross stitching dreams to linen
A tradition: inspiring awe.
X after X
X of devotion
X of care
She intertwines.
Corner to corner
Pieces of her heart
Whispers of her soul
A testament: love extol.
Cross stitch chronicles
Account times of our lives
The Lord’s Prayer
Should read
Our Mother
Who art
On earth
Has given
Blood, tears
And leads
Us all
With hands,
Tender hands.
Mom’s cross stitch
bonds our bones
through generations.
Comments
Post a Comment