Yesterday we had a dual-celebration in these parts. There wasn’t much time to dwell on the ins and outs of emotions. I had to jump in feet first and be a mommy, be a daughter, be a daughter-in-law, be a wife celebrating her husband’s 30th birthday, be a soon-to-be-aunt, just be.
But once we were back home and the boys were asleep and the calm settled down and around, I picked up the phone to call Dee back. She had texted a Happy Mother’s Day message earlier in the cacophony, and I wanted to return the sentiment.
She was busy with JD and reading, so we exchanged a quick “Happy Mother’s Day” and “I love you,” and then she handed the phone off to the Munchkin. After the “hellos” and “how are yous?” and “did it rain all day theres?,” a slight pause happened — as does when talking to children on the phone — and she said, “Happy Mother’s Day.”
I had a brief moment where I had to stare at the corner of the ceiling and blink rapidly — but instead of trying not to laugh, it was to keep from becoming a complete blubbering mess on the phone with this amazing, fabulous, best little girl ever. Once I composed myself, the conversation continued as you might imagine with some “thank yous” and “I miss yous” and “I love yous.” Then she asked to speak to my husband so she could tell him Happy Birthday. He also had a moment. She is, quite honestly, the best little girl on the planet. I don’t care what you say.
There are little moments along this open adoption journey that stand out as big, important things. Maybe not to the rest of the world, but to my heart. My daughter told me Happy Mother’s Day.
I can count this year as not only having survived, but having enjoyed Mother’s Day. That, in itself, is a huge milestone.
