Cold, Wet and Damp

re06-05-11  This title may not inspire anyone to be happy.  Actually it may make people remember coming home from school when they were young and actually being cold, wet and damp.  Whether it was in the middle of winter, or the newness of the Spring, it always seemed to me (I had to walk to and from school, although it really wasn't that far) that I would always end up in this state.  Here is the thing:  I don't think of those times with grumpiness or with an unfavourable outlook and I will tell you why.  When I was younger, and I would find myself in this state, I would arrive home to something special.  Every time, and I mean every time, my mother would always have some hot caoco made for me.  The first thing she would say to me was "Jaime, go get yourself out of those clothes and put on some dry ones."  I would and then I would sit at the table and enjoy the love that resonated from a hot cup of cocoa.  It wasn't that cheapy, sugary stuff either.  My mother would have the water boiling, the carnation milk and cocoa already in the bottom of the cup, my only chore was to mix it until the little hard cocoa balls disintegrated into the milk.  The sugar was added to finish off the paste.  The boiling water would be added.  On some days my mother would even make me a piece of toast (white bread of course), and I would dunk it into the cocoa until it was SO saturated that it would fall apart, and then I would have to continue to dig it out (I know, I lived my life like a sitcom).  This may not seem like much to most people, but when I was younger, no matter what my head was thinking, I was always surprised and happy with that cocoa.  Here is one more point;  I have done this exact same thing with my own daughter, and she too loves to get that special treat on those cold, wet and damp days.

This Sunday is a day to celebrate mothers.  All mothers, not just your own.  We should be thankful for the mothers who try their hardest to provide a good life for their children, whether it is our idea of a good life or not.  We should be thankful for the mothers who were unable to have children of their own and chose to adopt someone else's children and raise them as their own.  We should also be thankful to the mothers who have the courage to recognize that they will not be able to provide for their children and make that very difficult decision to let someone else raise their children to be the best that they could possibly be.

To be a mother.  This is something that I truly hold dear to my heart.  My very life's breath is for my children.  I live for them.  Everything that I have done up to this point in my life has been for them.  I do not ask for anything in return because it is my gift to them for being as wonderful as they are.  The thing is, to be a mother encompassess so much that it really is inconceiveable how much we go through every day.  This does not make us heroes or martyrs. It is something that we chose.  Mother's Day is not to honour the mothers for being mothers, but it is to recognize them for the choices that they made.  The sacrifices.  The triumphs.  Yes, we made our choices and we thankfully got to receive the greatest gift: unconditional love.

So my happy thought of this day is..........MOM.

As always

Happy Does It!
:o)