After
twenty-one years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out
to dinner and a movie. She said, "I love you, but I know this
other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you."
The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my mother, who has
been a widow for nineteen years, but the demands of my work and my three
children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.
That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie.
"What's wrong, are you well," she asked? My mother is the
type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation
is a sign of bad news. "I thought that it would be pleasant to
spend some time with you," I responded. "Just the two of us?"
She thought about it for a moment, and
then said, "I would like that very much."
That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit
nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too,
seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her
coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had
worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a
face that was as radiant as an angel's.
"I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they
were impressed, " she said, as she got into the car. "They
can't wait to hear about our meeting. " We went to a restaurant that,
although not elegant, was very nice and cozy.
My mother took my arm as if she were the first lady. After we sat
down, I had to read the menu her eyes could only read large print.
Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw mom sitting there
staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips. "It was
I who used to have to read the menu when you were small, " she said.
"Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor,"
I
responded.
During the dinner, we had an agreeable
conversation-nothing extraordinary
but catching up on recent events of each other's life. We talked so
much that we missed the movie. As we arrived at her house later, she
said, "I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite
you." I agreed.
"How was your dinner date?" asked my wife
when I got home. "Very nice. Much more so than I could
have imagined," I answered.
A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It
happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do anything for her.
Sometime later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant
receipt from the same place mother and I had dined. An attached note
said: "I paid this bill in advance. I wasn't sure that I could
be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates - one for you and the
other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me.
I love you, son."
At that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time:
"I LOVE YOU" and to give our loved ones the time that they
deserve. Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give
them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till
"some other times."
Somebody said that it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you've
had a baby. Somebody doesn't
know that once you're a mother, "normal" is history. Somebody
said that you learn how to be a mother by instinct. Somebody never took a
three-year-old shopping. Somebody said that being a mother is boring. Somebody
never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver's permit.
Somebody said that if you're a "good" mother, your child will
"turn out good." Somebody thinks a child comes with directions
and a guarantee. Somebody said that "good" mothers never raise their
voices. Somebody never came out the back door just in time to see her
child hit a golf ball through the neighbor's kitchen window.
Somebody said that you don't need an education to be a mother. Somebody never
helped a fourth grader with his math. Somebody said that you can't love the
fifth child as much as you love the first. Somebody doesn't have five
children. Somebody said that a mother can find all the answers to her
child-rearing questions in the books. Somebody never had a child stuff
beans up his nose or in his ears.
Somebody said that the hardest part of being a mother is labor and delivery.
Somebody never watched her "baby" get on the bus for the
first day of kindergarten or on a plane headed for military "boot
camp." Somebody said that a mother can do her job with her eyes closed and
one hand tied behind her back. Somebody never organized seven giggling
brownies to sell cookies.
Somebody said that a mother can stop worrying after her child gets married.
Somebody doesn't know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law to a
mother's heartstrings. Somebody said that a mother's job is done when her last
child leaves home. Somebody never had grandchildren.
Somebody said that your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell
her. Somebody isn't a mother. Pass this along to all the
"mothers" in your life. I think we should also pass it on
to anyone who has ever loved and/or lost a mother.
God
doesn't call the qualified, He qualifies the called.
By Tim Pedrosa
To
the world you maybe one person, but to one person, you maybe the world.
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Tim
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