Chocolate Cookies and Her Mama

I was browsing in a local shop the other day, trying to find some little gifts to add to a care  package I was sending off later in the day.  The shop owner watched me pick up this, set down that, and then asked if she could help me find something.  I smiled and said I didn’t really know what I was looking for…  do you have anything for a broken heart?

In the shop that day, the owner’s 7 year old daughter was helping her mother unwrap new jewelry for the display case.   I was taken in by that little darling because her long wavy hair and pretty eyes reminded me of my 4 daughters.  Each one of mine is grown now:  Raising children of her own.  Waiting to have children of her own.  Trying to find her way.  And mending a broken heart.

I made small talk for awhile, and shared just a bit of my mission for the day.  As I continued around the corner and looked at some coffee mugs and wall signs, I heard the little one innocently ask her mother, ‘why is her heart broken?’.

After shopping for a bit more, nothing seemed quite right, and I decided there was probably not a purchase in this store that would meet my needs.   As I walked back to the counter, I could hear the shop owner and her little girl whispering.   The Mom looked up as I approached and said, ‘I asked her if she was away at college and had a broken heart, what would she like me to send her.  She said, I would want chocolate chocolate_mint_cookies-2-1024x1024cookies and you’.

Out of the mouths of babes…

No matter if a little girl is 7, 17 or 27, if her heart is sad, if she is hurting, she wants the same thing.

Chocolate cookies and her Mama.

As I said my good-byes to them, with tears in my eyes, I said, ‘enjoy her today… ‘.   That young mother stared back at me with tears of her own, nodded her head, and hugged her little girl.

I had one more stop before heading home — the local bakery.    Once home, I carefully wrapped the goodies and placed them in the padded box.    I had been rushing to get the package to the post office before closing.  But even with all the trinkets and goodies, the box still seemed incomplete.

‘…cookies and you.’ 

I wish I could fit myself into that box.  And even if I did get to her, what then?  Why does she need me?   And then I knew how to seal up that box.  Looking at the clock, I decided the shipment would have to wait until tomorrow.  Remembering the challenge from a book I once read, Put Your Heart On Paper, I grabbed a blank sheet of paper and sat down at my kitchen table…

“My Dear Sweet Girl…… “

I sealed the letter with hugs and kisses and placed it in the box, and mailed it out the next morning.

letter-penJust a brown cardboard box filled with a few little things, nothing much really.

Just her Mama’s heart and a few chocolate cookies.



5 Reasons Your Mom Won’t Come To Easter Dinner

5-reasons-to-go-google1Talking with a friend recently, she shared her disappointment when her mom didn’t want to come to Easter dinner.  “She’d rather sit home alone than spend the day with family?!”    Since that conversation, I’ve done some thinking about it.    Here are just 5 reasons that Mom (or Gramma) may not want to come to Easter dinner:

1.  She is afraid of falling.  She knows her own turf.  She is confident and knows where to be extra careful in her house and even her garage.  She doesn’t know your terrain, and it makes her nervous.  She knows a fall could be deadly for her.

2.  Her bathroom habits have changed in recent years and are a bit unpredictable.  She is embarrassed, but doesn’t want to talk about it.

3.  The conversation in a big group is confusing.  It is too fast, and either too loud or too soft.  It is often about subjects she does not understand such as social media, smartphones or current movies.  It makes her feel unimportant and lost.

4.  She feels secure in her own environment and in her own routine.  She is very uncomfortable out of those surroundings.

5.  Her world has gotten smaller and smaller over the years.  The noise and space and people at a large family gathering cause her anxiety.  Even though she loves these daughters, sons and grandchildren, the party-like atmosphere is often more than she can handle.

It’s hard to say what I will and won’t do when I’m over 85 years old.  I know I don’t do some things now I use to do when I was 25 or even 35.  So probably thirty years from now, I will have more things on my “don’t do” list than on my “to do” list.

Maybe we should look for ways to be creative with the elderly women (or men) in our lives.  And when they decline a special dinner at our house, we could reply,  “How about lunch one day earlier this week instead — just the two of us?”