Mother’s Day 2021, 7:27 pm, I was sitting on the runway, waiting for my flight to depart from Atlanta back to Detroit. On (this past) Friday, I decided to take a last-minute trip to Albany, Georgia. My mom had left two days before to see about my grandmother. I booked our flights, came home early from work, packed our bags, and headed to the airport. Ash hadn’t been to Albany since he was maybe eight months old. And because of COVID, the last time we took a flight out of Detroit was for his third birthday to Disney. He was all game for mommy’s last-minute adventure, even if it was shaded by an over-compulsive use of hand sanitizer, wearing masks, and a repeated warning not to touch anything.
I spent Mother’s Day in warm weather with my mom, grandma, and family. Ash was able to rack up a few more southern memories, including a new love for fried catfish and his first socially distanced carnival adventure, complete with a Ferris wheel ride. He even won a little green stuffed dolphin from one of those “step right up and play” carnival games. And yes, when we got back to our hotel that night, I lightly doused that dolphin in disinfectant spray and set him on the nightstand to dry overnight. He carried that green dolphin on the plane with him and buckled him in his lap. And sometime after 10 pm Sunday headed west on I-94 back to Ann Arbor; Ash remarked from the car’s back seat that he was hungry and wanted catfish.
Mother’s Day was a little different this year but no less commemorative of motherhood. I watched my aunt and mom care for my grandma in ways I hope Ash has the heart to one day care for me. I stood next to my grandma’s bed, seeing her more physically frail than I have ever seen her, and yet more feisty than I have ever seen her, dole out reprimands over her sausage biscuit getting to her later than requested and wisdom on living in faith, not fear. On the flight back home, I heard a mother sitting behind me on the plane trying to soothe the precious cries of an arm baby. And then later, my little one, growing restless as the evening drew nigh, feeling our slow descent from the sky, repeatedly asking, ‘are we going down yet?’
While down south, Ash started referring to it as his ‘second home.’ I hope he remembers it, talking to his great granny, jumping on the hotel bed, carnival rides with mommy, eating catfish, and running around in his great aunt’s front room. He slept with that little green dolphin last night.
Motherhood is hard, but it’s the happiness for me—the joy on his face. I love to see it. I cannot imagine that will ever change. No matter how old he gets. Fortunate, blessed, happy one—that’s the meaning of Asher’s name. And sometimes, I feel like it couldn’t be more prophetic.
I am already planning a trip back to his second home.
Hope you had a beautiful mother’s day weekend! xo
