I once read an essay that categorized essays as rambles through an author's mazy mind. Hence the title of my post. Many essayists manage to wander around and yet arrive at some clear conclusion. This post is less of an essay and more of a ramble.
This evening I took a walk through the neighbourhood. Delightful smells of freshly cut grass mingled with sweet lilacs. Rain is in the forecast and I think everyone is cutting their lawns beforehand. We did ours last night. Tim does the trimming and I mow until he's finished trimming, by which time I'm happy to relinquish the mower as I will have arrived at the steepest part of the back lawn.
I'm listening to the sounds of Tim retrofitting drawers into a set of kitchen cabinets. Some day we'll redo the kitchen, but I get so frustrated with the storage of small containers. I've tried baskets, but one can only reach so far into bottom cabinets without crouching right down and crawling halfway in. I'm thankful for a talented and hard-working husband.
I'm also thankful for good friends, and a lovely Sunday afternoon of boating. We gathered at the boat launch and set our heading to Salt Spring Island for a late lunch. Being out on the water tends to make us forget about life on land for a few hours. We sleep very well after a boating trip, except that I tend to feel the motion of the boat when I close my eyes. The room seems to be going back and forth, just a little.
I'm thinking about Mother's Day this Sunday. Did you know that Anna Jarvis, the originator of this day to honour mothers, regretted ever coming up with the idea? She was horrified at the way a simple celebration had been hijacked by the floral and card industries.
Be that as it may, I'm very thankful for my mother and her love, guidance, and example. My mother-in-law is also wonderful. I'm thankful for the opportunity I've had to become a mother, and now a grandmother.
But I know of many women for whom this day is agony. Some have longed for children and have not been given any. Others wait in cycles of hope and disappointment. In the past couple of years, our eldest daughter and her husband have lost four little heartbeats, now safe in heaven. It's hard. We are all thankful for the little girl they do have, but the loss of the others aches still and there are times when I am overwhelmed with grief.
We will celebrate Mother's Day with joy. Our three grandchildren will fill our gathering with exuberant delight. I am overjoyed when I spend time with them. But I will also be conscious of those for whom this day is difficult, and my thoughts will be filled with tenderness for them.
I'm looking at this bouquet of flowers, picked from my garden last night. Cornflowers, a few last tulips, Bluebells, Candy Tuft, and Lemon Balm.
I'm planning to pick some rhubarb tomorrow. Shall I make a rhubarb cheesecake bars, or just stew it to serve over ice cream? Decisions, decisions. Which would you choose?
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