Mother’s Day 2014

I probably would’ve texted her between 1st and 2nd service, and maybe call her while everyone else was taking their Sunday afternoon naps.  We would’ve talked about the guy who wants to marry his computer.  She would talk about how humid the air is, which is actually good for the plants.  Did you want some hostas?  They grow like craaa-zay over here, and we can split ’em.  Lemme know.

Or, alternatively, she might have come out to pfm and taken in 2nd service.  I would point her out after making a side comment about “pastoral privilege”, which she and maybe a few others in the room would know was a joke on my part about pastors taking privilege, which I think is silly.  I wouldn’t have smiled or laughed, giving a cue that I was kidding, but she would know that I was.  Her sense of humor — a mix of wry commentary with a worldview comparable to Solomon in Ecclesiastes — is something she got from me.  Or maybe I got it from her.  We would discuss this over lunch at Red Robin, where everyone was, it seemed, but the food was worth it.  She would mention that the Red Robin in Westland just got an upgrade, and how we went with Grandma to Red Robin right after it opened — and several times more after that.  Do you remember how much Grandma liked Red Robin?

Yeah.  I do.  I miss Grandma.  I bet you do too, mom… this being Mother’s day and all.  She was a good mom.  So are you.

The boys would be interjecting throughout our conversation — Emily and I talking about something Lexi did or about how the front of our station wagon looks like it got its teeth knocked out.  You can get that fixed, ya know?  Yeah.  We’ll get to that soon.

When the kids interrupt our grown-up conversation, Mom engages with whatever off-the-wall thing they just said.  Nothing phases her.  Really, Zac?  You beat Zombies with popsicles?  Really, Mac?  You saw ghost footprints in the school library?  Really, Lexi?  You want me to make this sound?  Lexi would not let go.

We’d all get to the door and hug, her making the long trek to the East side before the storms (non-existent but still a very real possibility) hit.  The sun would be shining brightly, reflected off the windshields of the cars in the parking lot.

“Happy Mother’s day!”

(Should I have gotten her more than a card that plays Inagaddadavida?  She does love that song.)

Yep — that’s how Mother’s Day 2014 would’ve gone.

About radamdavidson

I'm a husband, dad, and pastor living in Portage, Michigan. I suppose I'm a euphoric melancholy generalist with average skills, experiences, and passions across several intertwined disciplines and hobbies including music, speaking, writing, leadership, ministry, and collecting cultural artifacts from the 1980's -- mostly vintage boomboxes. You can read my blog at www.radamdavidson.com, subscribe to my podcast (RadCast) or friend me on facebook.com/radamdavidson. about.me/radamdavidson
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