HAPPY MOTHERS DAY
by Shelley Norman

James walked into his living room to see his wife, Beth, sitting on the sofa with a large book open on her lap and carefully dabbing at tears with a tissue. Walking over to her he laid a hand on her shoulder and asked, “what’s wrong dear?” She looked up and smiled, “oh nothing really. I’m just feeling a bit lost that’s all. It’s the first Mother’s Day with none of the children living at home anymore and it feels...strange. Lonely.” He sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze, “that makes sense.” “So I thought I’d look through this scrapbook,” she flipped it closed for a moment to show him the cover which read ‘Mother’s Day Memories’. “Do you remember giving me this on my first Mother’s Day?” James looked at the book and smiled, “yes. Jeff had been sick, and I was at the drug store picking up medication for him, and I saw this on a shelf and thought I’d surprise you.” “It was a lovely surprise and every year I’ve added to it,” she opened to the first page. “Here’s a photo of me and our sick little man on that first Mother’s Day.” She flipped through a few more pages gingerly touching crayon drawings and tiny handprints. “Remember this one? Jeff was three and Tina was only a couple months old and Jeff decided to draw a family portrait and he drew the three of us as stick people wearing earmuffs and Tina as a big red monster with an ‘O’ shaped mouth because she was always screaming.” “It was an accurate assessment. I think the neighbours a block away could likely hear her,” James chuckled. “I always thought she might have a career as an opera singer.” “Who would have thought she’d decide to become a librarian,” Beth replied with a chuckle of her own. “Maybe she got all the hub-bub out of herself before the age of five.” She flipped a few more pages and paused again. “Here’s the macaroni necklace Tina made me at preschool, which ended up missing several pieces after Spot got a hold of it and had a bit of a snack.”

“Spot was a great dog,” James said a tear welling up in his own eye. “I miss that guy. He could play fetch for hours at a time.” “He could also spot anything edible from a mile away. Jenny heard me say ‘How did you spot that?’ so much she started calling him Spot. His real name was Reginald, but the vet was the only one who ever called him that,” Beth recounted. “Ha, I’d forgetten that. But makes sense since he didn’t have any spots,” James replied. “Jenny was a little parrot as a toddler.” His wife flipped on in the scrapbook pointing out cards and crafts the kids had made for her first at daycare and then in school. She stopped at one page reading out loud, “What I love most about my mom is that she can build anything out of lego.” She pulled the tissue back out of her pocket and dabbed at her eyes again. “I loved all those hours of playing Lego with Jeff.” Her husband reached over again and pulled her in for a squeeze. “I miss those days so much James.”

“I know you do,” he dropped a kiss on her forehead. “But you still have special times with them. Where’s that card the girls gave you last year? Is it in here?” James took the scrapbook and flipped to the pages near the back since it appeared the book was in chronological order. “Ah, here’s the beauty,” he laid the book back on Beth’s lap.

“Beauty, might be a bit much for this card,” Beth said but she smiled as she flipped through the booklet style card. The girls had found a bunch of candid snapshots taken over the years of her and captioned them with things such as ‘Mom the Explorer’ for the photo from a hike at the provincial park near their home, or ‘Mom the Movie Star’, for the one where she was dressed up for a Christmas party. There was a photo of her in the kitchen called ‘Mom the Chef’ taken right at the moment she’d dumped flour into the stand mixer and it had all flew up into her face. And ‘Mom the Mechanic’ for the day Jeff had almost bust a gut laughing at her trying to figure out where to pour the windsheild washer fluid into the car, her head way under the hood and her butt sticking out. “This is my favourite one”, James said pointing at the one on the last page titled ‘Mom the World’s Best Mom’. It was a photo of Beth sitting on the couch with the two girls on one side and Jeff on the other just watching TV, Spot sitting on the floor at her feet. “It’s the most beautiful picture I’ve ever seen.” Just then Beth’s tablet began to chirp. Someone was trying to facetime her. James picked the tablet up and glanced at it as he handed it to his wife who was busily trying to wipe the tears off her cheeks, “I think you’ll want to take this.” “Happy Mother’s Day!” three voices said in unison as she answered the video call coming in and causing a large smile to spread across Beth's face.

Shelley Norman is a child care provider, freelance writer and farmer. Her writing has appeared in various magazines, journals and anthologies throughout Canada and the U.S. She has one published children’s book, ‘Bruce County Counts‘. Visit her webpage at www.facebook.com/ShelleyNorman.Writer