This Mother's Day will be my second as a widow. While I have settled in to routines and found some of my groove, there are some aspects that will just keep getting more difficult.
Mainly it is the emotional side of it all. That "empty nest" that many parents transition into smoothly because they have each other and they have "couple" plans to anticipate becomes a bit scary as a widow. So, while I know that I must go into the empty nest years with a smile on my face and joy in my heart for my three children's future successes, what I really want to express right now is my desire for a Mother's Day timepiece.
All I want for Mother's Day is a new watch. I want my new watch to tick slower and have minutes that last longer. It won't just wind, it will rewind. I want to go back and have time stop -- long enough to wrap my heart around those moments that I let pass so casually. Times when it seems like nothing important is happening, those "everyday" mundane moments.
I want to go back, push the "stop" feature and freeze the frames of life. That little wisp of hair, the tiny teardrop, the "I can make it better" kisses and the gazes from angelic faces that made me feel so important.
I want to exchange material things for just one more day with each of those people. Just let me watch my children's faces in the soft spring glow for another moment. Let me hear their silly laughter.
I want my new watch to tick very softly so I am not reminded every minute that my biological clock is ticking. My new watch will stop whenever I am really happy and I will breathe it in deeply.
My new watch has to stay young because age makes time move faster. With my old watch, every minute asks to be chased and captured. There are no moments that linger and wait for me anymore. Sometimes my old watch seems to taunt me and tick louder and louder.
Maybe I could just know that all of the people who will be at the dinner table this year will be there next year? I love the new faces, but I so miss the old ones. My new watch would be just perfect for that.
I will remain optimistic about my new watch, but I fear it is time for Plan B. I wonder if I can just know that all the love I have sent out for all those years has made a difference and has mattered.
Can I tell everyone that I did not mean to be careless with the moments? Can they all just know that I valued every second that they gave me? Do they make smart boards for hearts yet? I could write, "I'm sorry if I did not act like every moment was important" on my heart and it would automatically write it on all of their hearts. Then they would all know how much I felt the love coming back to me.
So all I want for Mother's Day is time! Give my children an extra month off in the summer for us to enjoy long bike rides and the sunshine. Let me rewind and have tea with Gramma in her cozy kitchen one more time. Let me know that always I will hold inside of me the feeling that came with sitting in a dimly lit room listening to lullabies playing softly behind the sound of my babies' breathing.
Amy Remmele lives in Williamsville. She and her husband, Kent Bath, worked together as counselors, speakers and authors.