"When I think about why people have children, I realize how little it should have to do with the future. If, before any children are conceived, we knew that our reward for raising them would be perhaps several phone calls a month, a very occasional visit, and the sense of having once been important in their lives, we might not do it. But if we realize that the rewards are given during the raising, we will calculate the cost differently. My children have taught me more than I taught them, given me more joy than I have given them, and their being present or even much aware of me now does not alter this." –Phyllis Theroux, The Journal Keeper – A Memoir
We spent a rainy afternoon at my mother-in-law’s home, bringing a simple supper of chicken wings and coleslaw and salad to share. This is our way of thanking her for the many years she fed us, both in body and spirit. Our son, Jacob, home from college for summer, joined us. We know we are of little interest to him, with our old people talk of aches and pains, relatives he has never met, the weather and the high cost of everything these days. He might not relate to the stories, but he is imbued with the sense of this place. I can see it filling him up and shining through his every pore. There are little pieces of him all around the family table, and he is effervescent.
Happy Mother’s Day.