It was a lovely chit-chatty conversation with a group of ladies many years my senior. We were talking aprons and recipes and gardening. One lady is a particularly enthusiastic gardener. It’s probably what keeps Margie acting much younger than her 80+ years.
As the chatting turned to Mother’s Day, the women shared how their adult kids had helped them celebrate. There were lunches and brunches and cards and phone calls. But truly, nobody was as tickled as Margie.
With gratitude and excitement and a huge smile and happily clasped hands, Margie shared that her daughter and son-in-law gave her the most wonderful gift of all: fertilizer. And not just any fertilizer, highly coveted, non-burning emu fertilizer. And they didn’t just buy it for her, they spread it in her garden.
I kept myself from saying anything, for I didn’t want to taint Margie’s joy the tiniest bit. But I couldn’t help thinking that while families often give each other sh*t, it’s the rare mother who celebrates it.
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