Life is a funny old one.
What do you do on Mother’s Day when you are divorced/single and childless, and the whole world seem hell bent on celebrating their children?
This year, like I do most years, I decided to concentrate on the positive fact that I am lucky enough to have a wonderful mother who is still alive. I think of my friends who have lost their mums and I reach out to them to show some love. The day would usually pass without much drama or sadness. It is what it is.
This Mother’s Day, I had gone to bed late on Saturday night or should I say Sunday morning (2.48am bad, bad, bad, bad girl!) and around 9am on Sunday morning, in that dreamy/wakey/confused state, my door bell rang. I sleepily went to the video intercom and I could see a lady.
“I’ve got flowers.” With my eyes half closed, I couldn’t really make out the figure on the video screen.
“Flowers?” I answered sleepily as if she had just declared that she was dropping an alien from outer space on my doorstep.
“I’ve got flowers for xxxx xxxx.” My local florist said, saying my full name.
My scrabbled brain tried to decipher what on earth she was on about. My brain worked overtime trying to figure out who on earth could be sending me flowers. Various names flashed through my head and just as quickly, I discarded them. Could it have been the man I went on the date on Friday who I did not intend to see again? But he didn’t know my full name. And why on earth would he be sending me flowers? Stalker alert. Who on earth could it be from? I knew no one. I had no one. There was no one. This is odd.
“Could you please leave it on the porch?” I informed the florist whose van I could see on my video screen.
I sleepily went downstairs to the porch with the gait of a special agent about to solve the crime of the century. I would have to be extremely careful with this package. It clearly wasn’t some sort of assassination attempt as I recognised both the florist and her van. Then again it could be.
And there it was.
The most beautiful bunch of flowers I have received in longer than I can remember.
I reached for the card attached to the side. It read:
Happy Mother’s Day to our second mum.
Thank you for always being there for us.
We love you.
X Y and Z.
The flowers were from my nephews (aged 16 and 18) and my niece (aged 13)
These precious, most adorable, super awesome, generous, kind, sweetest kids have spent money they don’t have to send their auntie, a most gorgeous hand tied, bunch of flowers, timed to be hand delivered on Mother’s Day, with the increased premium.
The overwhelming gratitude and love I feel for these kids, and to my sister for raising such generous, kind, thoughtful kids, is more than I can express on this post.
I am very blessed indeed.