Rapture Smapture and Mother's Day Redemption

It's 6:02
The boys tell me The Rapture is coming at 6pm
Eastern or pacific?
Eastern cause America rules
Sarcastic brats
They booked a trip to Disney World
Just in case

Today was the first sunny day in what feels like forever ain't no sunshine when he's gone

I planted the Mother's Day Nervous Breakdown Geranium in its designated spot

*****

backstory

Mother's Day sucked. Hard. Like it always does.

2 parts hormones 1 part grief 1 part self indulgence

Blek

Early that morning the texts started coming in.

Sisters, friends, my realtor, my student.

A Happy Mothers Day Michele from someone who is not a mother but holds a particularly special place in my heart.

Mid-day I thought about my mom and my eyes started leaking.

She was here last Mother's Day.

I don't remember what we did. I don't remember if I saw her. Or called her.

Sisters what did we do?

Then late in the day I see this on my porch.

And I have no idea who it's from

Let me tell you, this beautiful geranium wreaked havoc with my progesterone filled brain. Between who I wanted the damn thing to be from and who I was worried it was from I ended up a sobbing mess rescued by the strong mama arms of Yogini Shannon.

Sobbing mess.

Like train wreck sobbing mess.

Damn ovaries. Damn Mother's Day.

*****

Flash forward to this week.

Turns out the Nervous Breakdown Geranium was from Andrew's grandparents.

Andrew is my 4th child.

Best friend to Jack. Big Bro Pal to Ty.

Destined to be one of Mia's husbands. ssshhh... don't tell them I said that

He pretty much lives with us. He's awesome.

As are his grandparents.

They brought me flowers on Mother's Day and left them on the porch.

The flowers were not from whom I wanted nor from whom I feared.

They were, however, from those who truly appreciate my mama qualities.

And that's all it's really about.

Right?

So today, the first sunny day in forever, I planted the geraniums in my lovely garden.

I thought it appropriate to sprinkle some Ashes in the hole.

mix my ashes with daddy's and divide them up and sprinkle them in your gardens

one of the last things She said to us

That's what She wanted. That's what She got.

Fine powdery dust with some hard chunks kept in a jar She made when She took up pottery.

No ceremony. No ritual. Just my knowledge and remembrance of this particular Mother's Day mixed with the soil and ashes to feed the roots of the 2011 Mother's Day Nervous Breakdown Flowers.

I sprinkled the ashes.

I looked at the powdery dust on my hand.

I put my fingers to my face and took a deep breath IN.

I felt the dust on my lips and nose.

It tasted a little bit salty.

Then I called Ty

and Jack

and Mia

And made them all breathe in the ashes of their Grums and Gramps.

Redemption.