This is For You

This is for you, the sentimental one who cluttered your refrigerator door with drawings of smiling suns and stick people with oversized heads. You, who glorified the dandelions we picked with a crystal vase. If we were to look inside your jewelry box, we would not find flashy diamonds, but a dozen or so little teeth wrapped in tissue paper. And in that “secret drawer” that we were never allowed to open, there are no expensive clothes, only locks of our hair and every Mother’s day card we ever made for you, preserved with care.  

This is for you, the selfless, who bought us silly toys at the grocery store when you knew they would most likely be forgotten the next day, and most surely go unappreciated. You, who went without second helpings at supper so we could have thirds.

This is for you, the overprotective, who made us wear life preservers in the kiddy pool and jackets in May. So what if we were the only teenager on the block who had to mow the lawn in catcher’s equipment and steel-toed boots?

This is for you, the tenderhearted one who, with tears rolling down your face, switched us all the way home when you caught us playing in the street. The one who gave us quarters for the gumball machine, and still slips us a twenty when things get tight.

It’s a little late, as usual, but you know us, we would forget our heads if they weren’t tied on, happy Mother’s Day, and we love you for all you have done, and all that you continue to do.