I only cried 3 times today… and it wasn’t while I was standing in front of the Mother’s Day card selection.
It was only after the event, when I was driving home from school pick up, Tom playing DJ Morts on the tunes, the big sun shining over the Yorkshire countryside that the tears began to prick my eyes. I don’t think it was sadness or grief, my heart felt as if it were swelling, not shrivelling… exploding out of my chest, full of love for the little man beside me who I am lucky enough to be a Mummy to…. and full of gratitude for my wonderful mother in law who I was buying the card for, who has always treated me and looked after like a second daughter.
I don’t have my own Mumbo to spoil next Sunday, but I am honoured to be one… and still have someone to show my gratitude for… for all the Sunday lunches or suppers in the bottom aga, for all the babysitting, for the shoulder to cry on, for the always open door and open mind, for the morning tea or morning alka seltzer… for the ready glass of champagne when something or evening nothing is worth a celebration.
The first time I cried today was reading a card, that I thought was a thank you note… I had to read twice the kind, touching words before I really understood what I was being asked… to be a Godmother. A Godmother to a very special little princess. It took me rather by surprise… and the tears reflected my gorgeous friend’s as I accepted, totally honoured to be part of this little person’s life….honoured and excited to be in charge of all crises – particularly the ones relating to shoes or handbags!
The second time, was just as I said goodbye to my new little goddaughter. As I turned on the ignition, Bette Midler was singing one of Mum’s favourite songs… already emotional, the words … just the words… and that was it.
The perfect words…
Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
An endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
And you its only seed.
It’s the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance.
It’s the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance.
It’s the one who won’t be taken,
Who cannot seem to give,
And the soul afraid of dyin’
That never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long,
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong,
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed that with the sun’s love
In the spring becomes the rose.