Mother’s Day 2020 and snowflakes dance through the air. The buds on the trees have zipped up their parkas and the smell of wood smoke escapes from the chimney that is normally resting at this time of year.
Bacon and eggs are cooking on the stove as they do most Mother’s Day mornings with my husband manning the frying pan. I have three sons who are now young men; one at home, one at work and the third in Lennoxville in his apartment physical distancing. During COVID shopping for gifts, cards and special something’s are just not the priority this year.
I woke up this morning thinking about the year that my second son had made me a Mother’s Day card in Kindergarten. The front of the card was adorned with a red heart and rose (his own creation) and it said along the front of the card, “I love……….” I opened it expecting to read, “You.” Instead, the inside of the card said, spelled correctly, “convertibles.” I got up this morning and found the card in a memory box and enjoyed it as much 20+ years later as I did the day he gave it to me. In the same box I found a book my youngest son had created about his parents. The stick figures were quite lifelike and there was an arrow pointing me the one of me with a caption that said, “Mom, you are the round one.”
Sitting in the living room the phone rings as the eldest is first to remember that it is Mother’s Day. He informs me that he went to a thrift shop and found a mug, “just like the one I had when he was a kid that got broken.” He saw it and thought of me. He sends me a photo and sure enough, it is exactly like my favourite old mug that I used for tea all those years ago. As familiar as an old friend, just seeing it brings back memories of sipping my tea and watching the boys playing together outside when they were young.
Three grown sons and three little pigs on a Covid Mother’s Day
The Scoop By Mable Hastings
