Mother’s Day I planned myself a very nice day; arranged a bike ride at Carvin’s Cove with a dear friend; we talked more than we rode, but that was just what I needed. The time in nature was healing; the conversation and connection even more nourishing.
Ate it on the front porch in the sun. Very nice.
I must have been sitting in silence for quite a while because he inquired “What are you thinking about Mommy?” And at that moment I had been thinking of laying on a blanket and looking up at the clouds, like I used to do with the children when they were small. And so I told him.
But before I could take offense he said “But, why? Why would you ever sit there and just think about doing something that you could so easily be doing? Why don’t you just go get a blanket and look at the clouds!”
It was such a wise and funny response; and it was so interesting to watch the thoughts pass through my mind. How could I explain my adult mind process — that I thought about what the neighbors would think about me laying in the front yard; about whether the kids would be too grown to look at clouds with me and think it silly; I even wondered which blanket I’d be okay with getting dirty; you know, excuses.