Tag: Mother’s Day

Una Benedizione

“We Italians have a saying,” said my cousin last month at Aunt Leah’s funeral. “An Italian mother is una benedizione.”

mother’s day may 13

Una benedizione. A blessing. A benediction.

What does that mean? The dictionary gives me several ideas.

A benediction is an utterance of good wishes.

Her words, her wishes for her children, are good. Even those awash in worry or irritation, even those carry compassion. She means well.

“Have a good day at school.”

“You can do it.”

“Get down from there!”

“Wear your coat to stay warm.”

“Wear your sunscreen so you don’t burn.”

“Wear your seatbelt in case there’s an accident.”

“Mamma loves you. Always.”

A benediction is an invocation of divine blessing. 

Silent prayers house the longings of her heart. They stretch over her child as he sleeps. They strain upward and plead with God.

“Lord, bless this child.”

“Lord, save this child.”

“Lord, protect him.”

“Lord, use his abilities as You see fit. As You made him.”

“Lord, help me be a good mom to him.”

A benediction is a service to bless the congregation; a ceremony to set things aside for sacred use, as a church, vestments, or bells.

She prepares imperfect sanctuaries for a noisy congregation and presides over a ceremony of the unseen. The sacred service of things taken for granted.

clematis

She wraps children in blankets, birthday presents in paper, boo-boos in bandaids. She feathers the nest with goodnight kisses and turns the pages of bedtime stories. She walks the night feeding a baby, comforting a sick child, or waiting for a teenager to make curfew.

She washes and folds mounds of laundry and lays out vestments for her charges. She cleans up rooms, dishes, and misunderstandings. She completes a task only to see five more erupt into chaos.

She answers endless questions. She faces the fire of a two-year-old and the swagger of a sixteen-year-old. She weeps with those shunned, disappointed, and bereft.

Her orchestra is populated by pots and pans. She directs the sweet, ringing bells of small feet and voices. She conducts personalities like instruments du jour: recorders, pianos, saxophones, violins, trumpets, booming drums. She oversees a heady score—the allegro and adagio of raising another human being.

A benediction is the state of being blessed. A mercy or benefit.

She bestows a state of blessing on her children that remains after she is gone. Though the official benediction may come at the end, it’s been conferred throughout the service.

Mi manchi, Mamma. Sie stata una benedizione per me.

I miss you, Mom. You were a blessing to me.

The Aaronic Benediction

The Lord bless you
and keep you;
the Lord make His face shine on you
and be gracious to you;
the Lord turn His face toward you
and give you peace. Numbers 6:24-26 NIV

Dreaming with a Broken Heart by John Mayer who sings and pulls heartstrings.

How has your mom been una benedizione to you?

Posted on by Aimee 17

Orchids and Stars for Mother’s Day

orchids on parade

On Mother’s Day when I was a teenager, my mom insisted the whole family wear corsages. My dad, brother, sister, and I went to church looking like we were going to the prom.

I have no idea why she wanted this. Yes, there is a Mother’s Day tradition to wear a red carnation if your mother is alive and a white carnation if she has died.

But my mom was very much alive when she issued her decree. My grandmothers were both alive in those years too. There were no white carnations within 10 miles of our house.

No red carnations for us either. My mom was a mild nonconformist. She bought us flowers to match our outfits. Usually orchids.

It was the 80s, so we had lovely shades of ivory, mauve and violet orchids. Like I said, we might as well have been going to the prom. A Taiwanese garden prom.

I vaguely remember a wrist coursage one year when there was nowhere to pin a flower on my sundress. Still trying to repress that.

Why not Easter corsages? Why not Christmas? Why not carnations or roses or freesia, for goodness sake? Why, oh, why orchids?

I can only guess what was going through her mind. Maybe to her orchids were an expensive luxury reserved for the royal family. And there was no better occasion to display us than Mother’s Day.

little star

She was beyond my best friend. After she died, I discovered she was my brother’s and sister’s best friend as well. She made each of us feel like we were the single star in her sky. Three stars circling one sun. She loved us each best.

Sometimes I catch myself thinking she can’t be gone. Thinking I’ll just pick up the phone and call her.

So what will I wear this year on Mother’s Day? A blinding white orchid on my head? A flashback wrist corsage?

Sunday best

I’ll wear a sweet little size six seersucker suit with hand-me-down brown bucks.

I’ll don a wide grin of baby teeth that are still hanging on, but will be long gone by this time next year.

And I’ll pin on a bright yellow star he made for me last Mother’s Day in Sunday School.

No orchids for me. One single star in my sky fits just fine.

Children are a gift from the Lord;
they are a reward from him. Psalm 127:3 NLT

Grab the tissues. A New Day Has Come. Happy Mother’s Day, everyone.

Posted on by Aimee 14