Best flowers for mothers
Mother’s Day is one of the most lovable and unforgettable time for all who have the privilege to say the most loving name: Mother!
For all mothers this day means a world of joy and happiness. Millions of them quietly wait and hope to receive a fresh bouquet of flowers that day and perhaps a nice card written with love and care from the hand and heart of son or daughter. Of course we want the best flowers for our mothers.
Why our mothers deserve the best
It has been almost eight months I haven’t seen my dear 81 years old mother. And that is because she is 6500 miles away, back home where she raised me. I saw her last summer and spend few days while vacationing in my homecountry with my family. It seems to me that everytime I held her small hands they took less space to fit in my big hands. Her hands had more wrinkles, you could see more veins and her skin was showing darker in the top parts of hands. Her hair was white and soft, her smile was kind and matched with her green eyes.
Ah mother, why the Lord allowed you to age? Why the Lord whitened your hair as snow? Why the Lord made your body smaller as days, weeks, months, years, decades (oh how much I wish to say centuries but I can’t) go by? But I can’t ask the Lord why He made your unconditional love, your smile, your sacrifices greater than life? Forgive me Lord for asking the first questions, I should know the answers but my heart aches at this moment. The only comfort the I have for my mother is that You are watching over her. Soon I will see her here at my american home at the beginning of April when she will cross the ocean to see me, her grandsons, and my lovely wife.
I will then fill my home with flowers for my mother, I will then fill her room with the aroma of roses, I will then speak to her only kind words, I will then hold her tight in my arms, I will then love her more.
I will have best flowers for my mother!
What do my fellow friends think and will do for their mothers? A comment of simple words will mean more to our mothers than to me.
This past weekend I visited my “American dad” recovering from a stroke in a rehab center. When I say “American dad” I simply mean that he is like my dad but not my biological father. I am honored to call him so because of the care and love he and his lovely wife poured on me 20 years ago when I landed in American soil. They still continue to do that in present time. I love him same as I did love my dear father until he passed away in 2003.
As dinner time was approaching my dad, his wife, my wife and myself went to keep him company in the small dinning room of the rehab center while he had dinner. As I walked in I noticed that all other elderly people were ladies waiting in silence to be served a modest cup of chilly beans, corn bread, a cup of milk or juice and perhaps a smile from the care giver. Some of them were sitting in wheel chairs and the others in chairs around their tables. I would say there were probably no more than eight or nine ladies. At my first glance I noticed that few of them had their hair done, well combed with very plain make up while the others looked as if they hadn’t done anything for their appearance in awhile. It touched my heart to see these hand full of ladies so quiet, with white hair, with wrinkles in their faces and small hands but with such lovely faces. I immediately thought of my mother and a warm feeling entered inside me.
Flowers on the old piano
As I was visiting around our table and watching around I noticed an old piano on the other side of the room. There were a bible, a hymn book and a vase of plastic flowers on top of it. I was deeply touched when I realized that there were no flowers at any of the few dinning tables with elderly ladies waiting patiently for their dinner. Tears rolled from my eyes while making sure that no one would see me. Why these Nobel ladies, these heroic mothers, these sacrificial women don’t have a simple fresh bouquet of flowers while dinning? Where all the flowers has gone? Why they were left so behind knowing that their days are counted? Where are the children that these mothers raised with unconditional love?
The lady and the old piano
As if this heartbreaking view was not enough for me I saw a lady entering the dinning room in her wheel chair heading towards the piano where the vase of plastic flowers was. She was slow but very precise in her actions. Next thing I know she opens the hymn book, places it carefully on the stand of piano and starts to play “The Old Rugged Cross”. Oh what a life she gave that room with the sound of piano! She was paralyzed from waste down but not in her spirit and soul. Those flowers on the piano have heard her plays many times. It was such a joy to listen to her music played with those wrinkled hands. I wish I could have a big bouquet of roses and give it to her at that moment. But I didn’t! Instead I approached to her as we were leaving and said: “Thank you very much for playing the piano, you made my day”. She looked at me with a wonderful smile and said: “You are welcome son”.
Time to say good bye
As we left to drive back home my heart was broken. How many of these elderly mothers pass their last days of their lives lonely, with not many visitors, dinning with no fresh flowers in their tables? It’s time to treat them as well as we treat our loved ones. Let’s no longer place fake flowers in their elderly homes, let’s no longer postpone a simple visit to them, let’s no longer wait to fill their souls with joy and love so they may fade away peacefully.
Until than be well and do good work.
Hands of a Mother
A lot is written, painted, draw, sculpt about hands. If you will simply look only the hands of a person and nothing else you can almost know something about that individual. A great Austrian novelist named Stephan Zweig wrote a story about hands of a poker player. The description was fantastic. Just by reading about the movement of his hands I was able to understand what kind of a person he was. There was no description of his face, no description of his character, no description of his personality. Nothing else but only his hands.
Perhaps you are wondering why in the world I am writing about hands of a poker player? Well my friend I would like to make a simple point, this time about our mothers. If you have not seen or heard from your mother lately than memorize her beautiful hands in your mind, visualize her wrinkled hands praying for you, visualize her hugging and holding you with her lovely hands. Visualize her holding a post card, a rose and a kiss sent from you.
Those hands have everything but voice to speak. Treat mother today with a simple gift.
Until next time be well and do good work.