For the second year I am watching my daughter-in-law celebrate Mothers’ Day. I hope you won’t think less of me when I use the lame excuse that I have never before been in a position to watch a Mom at work and really appreciate her. But here I am, a grandfather, and for the first time I have gotten to attentively watch a Mom raise her child.
Watching Allison over the last 14 months has been both an eye opener and a treat. She marvels at every little bit of progress Emmett makes and shares his victories with Sandra and me so that in spite of being 700 miles away we feel like we are still part of our grandson’s life. Her day begins early and ends late and she is always on call to tend to her baby boy. At the same time, she works hard on her marriage and to love her husband (my son) and to tell the world what a great man he is.
She has spent months searching for that part of Emmett that resembles her, but in the end she has to admit that the boy is virtually a clone of his Dad. Her last hope is that Emmett will not experience what we Irish call “the summer of 100,000 freckles.” But she knows that he is her baby. Maybe it’s the way he plays with the dog, or climbs into the dishwasher, or laughs out loud that is reflective of her spirit.
I suspect that Allison is a lot like all Moms, she works and plays, teaches and prays for her baby to grow up to be a good man. And with luck in another 60 years or so, Emmett will realize what a great and loving woman his Mom is. God bless her and all of you Moms. Happy Mothers’ Day!