My family life has been full of love notes.
It started before Michael and I were married, with me adding little "I love you!" notes to his lunches, which I lovingly packed.
This continued into our newlywed years, with the occasional notes to one another. Though, as I remember our 3 years before children, there wasn't much need to write each other notes as time together was plentiful and generally uninterrupted.
Then came children, 4 in all, and I started to get sweet "I love you, Mommy" notes and drawings on a fairly regular basis. Sometimes, after one of the kids finished in the shower, I would go in and leave a love note or goofy picture in the fog on the mirror.
One weekend, when my youngest was 7-months-old, my mom and oldest sister came and stayed with the kids overnight so Michael and I could have a little time to ourselves. In preparation, I left each of the older kids notes telling them how much I would miss them. I put on lots of lipstick and kissed each note so they would each have a kiss from me whenever they needed one while I was away.
When the school year started, I would give each child a personalized card, wishing them a great year and telling them how proud I was of who they each were and that I would miss them. I also included little notes and funny drawings in their lunch bags every day.
In time, the cards I received became more elaborate, including poems acclaiming their love for me.
It was heady stuff.
When we made the transition from Hills Bros. pre-ground coffee in a can to Columbian Supremo beans, Michael's frequent business trips made my mornings a little more difficult. He has always been the first up and the one to make the morning coffee. I'm much slower in the mornings and grinding the coffee beans is a chore that could almost bring me to tears.
Michael would pre-grind a week's worth of coffee for me and put each day's grounds into individual baggies, along with sweet notes such as "Set to brew and I love you!" and "I miss you, enjoy your brew."
The love notes have continued to evolve as the kids, and Michael and I, have aged. I sometimes still get cards from the boys, but usually they just tell me how they feel about me in person. I rarely receive poems that start with "My mom is the best..." anymore.
These days, the girls still give me cards for special occasions, but it's pretty rare to find a card for no reason waiting for me on my pillow.
Now we drink Fair Trade Sumatran Dark Roast, from beans, of course, and both boys will be in college this fall. Sarah starts her sophomore year of high school and Melissa is often busy in her own pursuits.
Michael still travels, and with Zachary leaving, Sarah will have to learn how to make coffee, as mornings are still a trial for me. Everyone these days makes their own lunches.
I don't want to give the wrong impression; I still get notes in the mornings. It's just that their nature has changed.
Now I find notes such as "Wally tinkled and ate" and "Dog no poop!" Or "Lester had his eye drops" and "Remember to make my appointment!"
My family life and my marriage have evolved over time. It's not that we don't still express our love for each other, it's just that things have changed.
Just as the first throes of love start with infatuation and urgency, small children seem so full of their love for their parents that it almost burbles out of their pores.
As love matures in a marriage, the appreciation for each other becomes more intense, the love less urgent but somehow deeper and more comfortable.
So, too, does the child's love for the parents mature. As their world widens, their appreciation for mom grows, but the urgent need for expression diminishes. Instead of proclaiming "I love my Mommy!" they are more likely to seek advice, share their lives over coffee at Starbucks, and laugh over those old family "inside" jokes.
Sometimes I miss those sweet cards-for-no-reason and the chubby little fingers that drew them. But I love who my kids have become and really, except for maybe one day, I wouldn't turn back time.
Though some baggies of pre-ground coffee sure would be nice...
1 comment:
My Mom never said I love you. My sister's and I have talked about that a lot. She showed her love in different ways...She made sure we ate very healthy. She made sure we were exposed to many different things educationally. I might not agree with everything she did to show her love, but she was doing it not to torture me, but too make sure I was healthy, tuff and able to take care of myself. This is love to her.
unkirti
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