Mother's Day

Salutations to mothers past, present, and future. From the fruit of your wombs we sprang or maybe were pushed and pulled, but we thank you for your nurturing garden that gave us life and the careful tending, love, guidance, that got us to this time that we could express gratitude for the gift.

This poem "Soul Weavings": a Gathering of Women's Prayers, by Lyn Klug says it better.

My God, I praise you, I thank you for my mother.
For all that she could give me,
For all that she gave of herself,
a true, living school of love and humility.
She reveals to me your mystery-
thank you for her revelation of your truth.
Now, O God, I pray for all the children
of Africa, of Asia, of America and Europe.
For all the children of the world.
Give me a heart like that of a mother
the heart of a black woman for her children.

We had a memorial service for Marjorie's father last Saturday. Family from Canada, Montana, Washington, and the Medford area came to acknowledge a life well-lived and a life to emulate. As Tom Brokaw stated, "these among us represented the greatest generation". Those of us fortunate to know this man witnessed daily examples of character, steadfastness, core values, kindness, generosity, and grace. I want to be like him. Daily, he nurtured the garden, his poetry reading, music, and his charities. Hardly a moment goes by during the day when a flower bright, a bird song, or an emerging beet in the garden doesn't remind me of him. This spring prayer by RW Emerson is for him. He would feel at home in this poem.

For flowers that bloom about our feet
For fresh grass tender and sweet
For song of bird and hum of bee
For all things near we hear or see
Father, creator of all, we thankThee.

For blue of streams, blue of sky
For shading branches reaching high
For perfumed air and cooling breezes
For the beauty of flowering trees
Father, creator of all, we than Thee.

My brain MRI last Friday showed no tumor recurrence in the last two months and Marjorie said that was her Mother's Day present. Chemotherapy on a monthly basis remains the main menu going forward. I have an accumulative fatigue from this but fight back with heavy doses of family love, music, friends, hikes, time on rivers, and conversations with the creative forces flowing through the emerging flowers in the garden and the energy pushing forward the Spring.

Gratitude to mother earth, sailing through night and day, and to her soil, rich rare and sweet. In our minds so be it. (More of this first American prayer later)

Thanks to all for your friendship and love. Now, the roses are calling, we have a memorial garden for my parents and Marjorie's. The want to talk to me. I will listen. Eric