A mother’s day…

I woke late and tired, having slept through all three of the alarms I had set to get me to work on time. The problem was, I had been unable to sleep until dawn, so I was bleary eyed as I dived around, feeding the dog and letting her out while I showered and shot out of the door within twenty minutes of opening my eyes.

My sons had invited me to lunch as it was Mother’s Day in the UK. The only problem was that, while one of them wanted me to cook lunch at his place, the other wanted to make me lunch at his. Not being a mistress of the art of bilocation, a compromise had to be reached.

While I prepared a rich, fruity tagine with cinnamon-spiced couscous for a late brunch at my eldest son’s home, we discussed the problem of his posture. Throughout Nick’s journey to re-educate his body since the attack, we have found a good many unorthodox methods of convincing it to do as it is asked. The latest challenge has been to find a meditation posture that he likes… one that is comfortable and does not cut off the already-dodgy circulation.

Over the past few days, I have demonstrated… and discovered that I will never again attempt the lotus position that used to be so easy. Not even if he pays me. My knees no longer consent to being tied in knots and my hips have gone on strike. I was vaguely disappointed, though not unduly surprised, to find that my body can no longer do what it thinks it can still do. You would think I would know better by now. That it took our combined efforts to get me back up off the floor was just rubbing salt into the wound.

I have always had decent posture; a legacy of early dance training and a dance mistress who wielded twin canes with accuracy and unwarranted enthusiasm. My son has evidently studied that posture.  I didn’t like to mention that I am so damnably stiff most days that the posture is no longer a matter of choice or habit, but of necessity. Even so, a couple of days ago,  he sent me an email. It said, quite simply, “Imaginary boobs of utmost importance.”

I have, on occasion, doubted the sanity of both my sons, almost as frequently as they have questioned mine, but that took the proverbial biscuit. I called… he explained… and, reassured of his continued, if relative, sanity, I had to admit that he was on to something. A good figure has a lot to do with good posture, especially for a woman, and by holding himself as if equipped with the aforementioned curvature, his posture was indeed much improved.

By the time we had finished, I was about ready for lunch. You can’t take heavy-duty painkillers on an empty stomach and I was definitely ready for those.

“You can’t catch me!” cried Hollie, half an hour later at my younger son’s home, expecting me chase her around the garden to do just that. “Let’s go on the trampoline,” was followed by, “Come on the see-saw, Grandma!” and “Climb up here, Grandma,” as she climbed the ladder to the little mezzanine in the new playhouse her Daddy is building.

Fortified with a proper afternoon tea, complete with sandwiches, finger-foods and clotted cream scones, I managed to exchange smiles with little Imogen before I was needed to fight off superheroes and be killed by them in turns, while slipping on the ‘ice’ that Hollie invented on the kitchen floor and then pushing her around the garden on her bike to chase her Dad.

By the time I finally made it home, the dog was desperate to go out and play… so Ani and I went for a long walk in the soggy fields, meeting the rain a mile or so from home.

I had come home laden with flowers, cards and chocolates… and I reckoned I had probably worked off enough calories to make inroads into those. But there were other gifts too that the day delivered. Gifts of love, laughter, trust and the kind of silliness that comes only from that closeness where nothing matters except being there. And one other unexpected gift… a temporary cure for insomnia!

About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at scvincent.com and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: findme@scvincent.com.
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53 Responses to A mother’s day…

  1. Ritu says:

    Sounds like a totally packed day!
    I hope you managed to sleep like a log, and not ache too much after all that physical activity!
    Happy Mother’s Day to you Sue! 🙂 ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  2. buffalopound says:

    Love spending time with my six year old grandson and always return home exhausted but happy.It is such a treat to be expected to play – all day! Love the confidence that they have in us being able to do that. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  3. jenanita01 says:

    My joints screamed all the louder after reading about your activities, Sue!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. ksbeth says:

    what a wonderful mother’s day and a body who won’t let you forget just how wonderful it was )

    Liked by 1 person

  5. A wonderful Mother’s Day you had.
    Mine was a simple lunch and we spend much time in the garden.
    Thank god that the weather was slightly warm and no rain, nor a sudden snow storm.
    Still, I wish you a Belated Mother’s Day from a mom to another mommy.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Darlene says:

    Sounds like a perfect Mother’s Day to me. You are fortunate both sons live close by. That little girl is so lucky to have a fun grandma!!

    Liked by 2 people

  7. fransiweinstein says:

    Sounds like a wonderful day, despite the knees and hips. Mine, by the way, are in the same state so I totally relate. Happy belated mothers’ day. On a totally separate note I can’t seem to “like” your posts. It’s happened before. At first I thought it had something to do with my phone, but it is only happening with your blog.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. amreade says:

    It sounds like you had a perfect Mother’s Day, Sue, showered with love by your family.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. So glad you had a wonderful day. Fantastic picture of Ani at the end bless her.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. It sounds like you had a wonderful day. Hope the combination of all that and the painkillers meant it was followed be a great night of sleep.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Widdershins says:

    The price of grandmotherhood , willingly paid. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  12. dgkaye says:

    Glad you had a wonderful Mother’s Day Sue. Man do I hear you on the uncooperative hip thingee. I think it’s a writer thing. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Eliza Waters says:

    Sounds like a lovely family day – the best kind. The body just has to be ignored, right?

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Happy Belated Mother’s Day, Sue. It sounds like you had a wonderful time. 🙂 — Suzanne

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Jennie says:

    I loved this, Sue!

    Liked by 1 person

  16. A wonderful day, Sue. You are most fortunate. Hugs.

    Liked by 1 person

  17. Kally says:

    Happy that you have a wonderful Mother’s Day celebrations.


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