Mother's Day.

Trying to put my thoughts together this morning with a letter to Bill.

Hi Bill.  Just me again.  Last week was a crap week.  I don't really know why but it started poorly and then just kept going downhill.  I didn't want to get up today.  It was my first Mother's Day without you.  Remember the Mother's Day when Madeline was just a baby and you hid my present (the Kitchenaid mixer) under our bed and then broke the bed frame when you pulled the box out?  I ended up with a new bed that year too!  I used that darn mixer just yesterday so you chose wisely.  Madeline and Sarah gave me a bracelet and a new pitcher.  It would be the perfect thing for holding your sweet tea.  But no one drinks sweet tea anymore so I guess it'll just be for water.  Alisha was sweet enough to take Jon shopping for a Mother's Day gift on Friday and he brought me some flowers (heliotrope and gerbera daisies!) and a new vase.  He told me his friend Jesse helped him pick out the card.  So sweet.  Heather came to visit yesterday and surprised me with a nice big bouquet from her yard and homemade bread.  The weather was nice so we sat outside while the little kids played.  I missed you a lot today.  You always mowed the lawn and did a major yard clean up for my present. You usually cleaned the bathroom (with bleach, which I dislike, and probably Mop n Glo too) and washed the dishes for me.  You would ask me what I wanted to do for Mother's Day and I always answered, "Go to the Farmer's Market and then to the yarn store."  I didn't do that this year.  No one went to the store and brought me back a Skor bar for dessert either.  That was one of your favorite things to do for me.  Silly.  Oh, and Sarah woke up with a cold this morning and you know how intolerant she is when she's sick.  Yeah, happy Mother's Day to me.

I sat through 4 games and 4 practices this week.  I cried at Jon's practice on Thursday because someone else was showing him how to hit and it should have been you.  I cried after Sarah's game on Saturday because she was the only kid there without her Dad.  All these families around me discussing their weekend plans for Mother's Day and I had no one to plan with.  I was still a Mom, sure, but I was only half of why I was a Mom to begin with.

I bought the first strawberries of the season and made, of course, your favorite strawberry shortcake.  With lots of whipped cream.  You know me and my whipped cream.  Scott and Judith came for dinner too.  Jack, Austin, and Andrew camped up on the logging road last night and fished at the river.  Not a bite, they said.  Three 16 year old boys.  By myself, Bill.  Gosh, I could have used your help with that bunch.  They rode the mini bike in the dark but I had the sense not to let them take a gun camping, even though they tried to convince me that they "needed a gun for protection."  They also tried to convince me to let them drive down to the pond in Gates, saying that two permits was as good as one license.  Seriously.  I don't know what to do with big boys, Bill.  It seems they're always on the verge of hurting themselves, someone's property, their own property, or some other person.

We walked to the Bigfoot spot this afternoon.  I can barely remember where it is now, it's all grown up and looks so different without the beaver pond.  Remember our picnic up there at Niagara Rock when Dolly slid down the hill?  Remember the time we were picking flowers there too and the elk came crashing through the swamp and scared us?  I used to love walking up there with you.

5 games this week and nearly as many practices.  I love it and I hate it.  I love it because it's baseball and because it keeps me busy.  So busy.  But I hate it because it just magnifies your absence.  You should be here showing Jon how to hit and talking about Jack's game with him.  There shouldn't be a sign in center field that says "In loving memory of....".  I don't want your memory.  I want you.

The yard is so pretty right now.  All the rhodies and azaleas are blooming.  I know how much you loved the springtime here.  The garden is growing nicely.  It's smaller this year.  I got your apple trees planted--2 of them, just like you wanted.  Uncle Ken came and put fence up to keep the deer and elk away.

I started reading Hemingway this weekend.  How did I get to be this age and never read Hemingway?  I suppose there's lots of things I still need to do and experience.  Even at my age.  I'll let you know the verdict when I'm finished.

Remember your old boots?  The ones you swore you'd wear until they weren't good for anything but flower planters?  The ones you wouldn't replace after you'd took your vow of poverty when we moved back to Oregon?  I planted flowers in them.  That's all they were good for now.