I went by your house yesterday. A soft spring rain was falling and the lawn glistened with gentle pastels. It looked so beautiful and delicate. I felt so old. I stopped the car and stared awhile.
The lawn was a patchwork of dark and light greens. I wondered why ... then remembered that as a boy I had stolen a lot of the color and worn it on my elbows and knees. I remembered the football and baseball games; hide and seek, and keep away. I remembered your tears as you called your lawn a battlefield and your dream of a beautiful green carpet ... then smiled when I thought about your dream having finally come true.
I thought of your love as you graciously gave us your colors. I thought of the holes it must have put in you.
Did I ever thank you mom? Did I ever thank you for the holes in your lawn and the holes in my jeans? The stains from the grass have long since faded to memories but the colors you gave me will always hold fast.
Did I ever tell you how much I love you?
Could words express it?
I think not.
Happy Mothers Day.
Love,
Brian