As the days grow shorter, and the nights grow cooler, my thoughts turn toward holidays. And when my thoughts turn to holidays, my heart turns to thoughts of my mother. My mother wasn't perfect, but she was pretty amazing. Her love of all things "holiday" was passed on to me at an early age.
Mom was always involved in the PTA at school, and helped with (or spearheaded) Halloween parties, Thanksgiving programs, Christmas parties and so on. As my three siblings and I grew older, she happily gave in to my wish for a Christmas tree the weekend after Thanksgiving. When we all had children -- her granchildren -- she bought them silly little toys and trinkets for each holiday. Treat bags for Halloween, stuffed turkeys, Christmas treats galore! And books! Books for every holiday imaginable!
Nearly every holiday was spent at Mom and Dad's house, all the kids and grandkids invited, and any friends or girlfriends were always welcome, too. The house wasn't made for that many people, but we never cared. Mom would call me in the morning and ask, "What time do you think you'll be here?" (I was nearly always the first one there, even though my brother and his family live next door.) That question meant she was ready for me to come help; it might mean a trip to Wal-Mart or Target for some last-minute shopping. It might mean I needed to come start peeling boiled eggs for deviled eggs. It might mean she wanted me to help wrap gifts or stuff stockings, or make dressing, or any number of other possibilities. And I loved them all.
Mom and Dad are both gone now. I have made it through one Memorial Day, one July 4th, and one Labor Day without either of them, and it was hard. In the midst of celebrating, there is always a piece missing from my heart.
Now, as I work on Autumn crafts and projects, I look forward to making the holidays special for my own children, just as Mom and Dad did for my siblings and me. But there is a part of me that longs to hear my mother's sweet voice asking me once again, "Honey, what time do you think you'll be here?" I miss them so.
