Sammy Squirrel - RIP

I was out walking through the neighborhood tonight when I was reminded of a night just like tonight thirty five years ago. I'm not sure what triggered the memory, but it might have been the overwhelming number of rabbits and squirrels out grazing in the grass.

In the town where I grew up there were actually "blocks". We walked around the "block", not the culdesac, not the circle but the "block". There were no planned neighborhoods with fancy names, retention ponds, green space and pools. Just street after street of houses that fit nicely together, side by side with backyards that backed up to....backyards.

At the age of eleven I had many more boy friends than girl friends. It could have been because I liked to play ball, climb trees, ride motorbikes, dig in the dirt, escape out my bedroom window late at night and shimmy down the down spout and play with roadkill.

Several of us (3 boys and me) were out late one summer evening trying to find something to do. We were discussing options while we walked around the block. On the street directly behind mine we came across a deceased squirrel (we'll call him Sammy). Sammy was lying (or laying, I can never get that right) peacefully in the street. He was in pretty good shape, except for the fact that he was dead. He was not smashed and there was no blood. It looked like he had been trying to cross the street, was missed being hit and died of a heart attack brought on by the near miss.

Billy (and his name really was Billy) picked Sammy up with his four and a half fingers (Billy lost half of his pinky finger the summer before when we tried to hammer an M80 into a pipe that was too small and the M80 exploded prematurely taking part of Billy's finger with it). Anyway, back to Sammy. We couldn't leave poor Sammy in the street to be run over by a car and become filling for the small potholes where he lay. We were going to give Sammy a proper burial. A classy burial.

Back in the 1970's we didn't lock our front doors, and we definitely did not lock our car doors. Billy carried Sammy a bit further until we found the perfect burial site. A brand new Cadillac!! I opened the car door and Billy and I placed Sammy on the driver's seat, sat him up perfectly straight with his little hands on the bottom of the steering wheel! We closed the door and peeked in the window to make sure Sammy was still sitting up nice and straight! He was and the little guy had a white knuckled grip on that steering wheel! He wasn't letting go, he was going out in style and we could actually see a small smirk on that little guy's face!

We never went back to check on Sammy that evening. We would have stayed around for introductions but it was getting late and I think I heard my mom calling. I do hope the owner of that brand new Cadillac enjoyed his surprise the next morning when he opened his car door. I know Sammy did!

Rest in Peace, Sammy!

Mother's Day - A Day Like Any Other

This past Sunday was Mother's Day. My day.

It was just like any other day. Sure there were wonderful cards from my husband and children, beautiful flowers and a fabulous dinner from one of my favorite restaurants. But....it was just like every other Sunday, every other day of the week.

I walked around the house and picked up a half dozen pairs of tennis shoes and sandals (none of which were mine). I did several loads of laundry, folded the clothes and set them in the kid's bedrooms. I folded throws on the family room couch, put the remote back in it's place, and vacuumed. I did dishes, emptied the dishwasher, swept the floor and wiped the counter tops.

I answered questions like, "Mom, have you seen my shoes, my car keys, my backpack?" I made Monday's lunches, ran to Target to buy notebooks and pencils and stopped at the ATM to get the kid's lunch money for the week.

I took my son to Barnes and Noble like I do every day so he could do his homework. My daughter and I went grocery shopping like we do every Sunday. It was just a Sunday like every other Sunday.

In the past I've been frustrated by the clutter and chaos. At times I've been short with my kids when they've asked me if I've seen their shoes. My answer has always been the same, "No, I wasn't the last one to wear them". Often the laundry was overwhelming. Many times I was up late washing and drying a uniform in preparation for an early morning game. All too often, I got tired of making lunches and lost my creativity when it came to making meals.

Being a mom is exhausting, a mom's job is never done, and as I look back on the last eighteen years, I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

This past Sunday I felt so very blessed. I welcomed the busyness of being a mom and the exhaustion that comes with it because...

Soon, I won't be taking Michael to Barnes and Noble everyday or Courtney to the grocery store for our weekly shopping trip.

Soon, those shoes won't be scattered around the house, the amount of laundry will be diminished, the dishwasher will take weeks to fill and no one will be asking me if I've seen their personal belongings. Everything will rest neatly in their places and for days go untouched.

I enjoyed this Mother's Day more than any other. I cherished each and every moment of the day from picking up the messes to sitting down to dinner with my family. I looked at each of my kid's with a tear in my eye and thanked them for their messes, the quiet time they spent with me at the bookstore and the grocery store, for trusting me to raise them as best I could and for forgiving me for the mistakes I've made along the way. There were plenty.

Inspite of those mistakes I've made, they've grown into two wonderful, caring, loving, successful, loyal, and honest human beings and I couldn't be prouder to be their mom!

Courtney and Michael, I love you!