Mom enjoying Death by Chocolate at the restaurant where the dessert was invented.

This might sound terrible, but I don’t remember my first Mother’s Day as a mom. Not a thing about it, actually.

It was a very dark time for me. In those first few months of my son’s life, Mom had some very frightening episodes and several hospitalizations. The stress of that, plus trying to figure out how to care for an infant, plus going back to work… well, it was a lot. Did I mention the sleep deprivation?

It was not a celebratory time, so it’s no wonder that I’ve forgotten it.

Knowing myself like I do, I thought I’d want to make up for it this year, on my second Mother’s Day. Maybe brunch at Baba Yega’s, which I’ve had on my list for a long time. Maybe a very special mother/son photo session. Ooh, maybe a massage!

But you know what? As wonderful as those things sound, there’s only one thing that I absolutely want to do this Sunday. I want to spend time with my Mom.

I want the weather to be nice enough so that I can lie on the grass beside her grave. I want to close my eyes and see the pink glow of sunlight filtering through my eyelids; it will be the perfect backdrop for the memories to dance upon.

I will visualize her laughing. I will really try to hear it again, in my mind.

I will think of how she would subconsciously wag her foot when she ate ice cream, out of sheer pleasure.

I will think back on the moments of severe physical pain in my life: migraines, surgeries, childbirth. During many of those times, I intentionally tried to tattoo the experience on my brain. Remember this, I told myself. You’ll need it later. I will try to feel those pains again, literally.

Then I will think about how those painful moments are but a speck compared to what she endured in her last years. I will think about how, instead of retreating inward and feeling sorry for herself, she transcended her suffering and still found ways to serve others until the very end. And blissfully, I will bask in the fact that her pain has ended. Forever.

I will think about Acts 14:22, which tells us we will all endure many hardships in order to enter God’s kingdom. I will acknowledge what this means for me – that I will suffer in some way, too – and I’ll give serious thought to how I can use it for God’s purposes, the way Mom did.

I will acknowledge that it also means other people I dearly love will suffer, and I will think about how best I can bring God’s peace and grace to them in those times. I will have a dress rehearsal in my mind, so that when it happens, I’ll be prepared and strong. They will need me, and I will be there. Just like Mom was.

Then I’ll try to mentally catalogue every single one of our inside jokes, and laugh at each of them. I’ll think of funny things that have happened recently, and imagine what she would have said or how she would have laughed.

And then… I’ll open my eyes. If I’ve had the experience I’m hoping for, I’ll see the cemetery with a fresh perspective. I’ll have forgotten for a moment where I am.

Sometimes people ask me how I’ve managed through these past few years, and my answer usually includes a mention of prayer and meditation. Most people get the prayer part, but the meditation sometimes causes brows to furrow.

If you were one of those people, you aren’t any longer. You just meditated… here, with me.

“Removing myself from myself” and leaving the worries of my daily life behind allow me to really think about what matters most. And remember things I don’t want to forget.

If I get a chance to do that this Sunday, and also get to hear a special little someone say “mammmma”, then Mother’s Day will be a stark raving success.

I love you, Mom.

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Mom enjoyed pretty much all ice cream, but this recipe for homemade cinnamon ice cream was always a sure bet to set her foot a-waggin’.  I wanted to serve it with apple pie, and after checking all my usual cookbooks and magazines, I finally found a good one online.

Cinnamon Ice Cream

2 cups white sugar
1 ½ cups half and half
2 eggs, beaten
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

In a saucepan over medium-low heat, stir together the sugar and half-and-half. When the mixture begins to simmer, remove from heat, and whisk half of the mixture into the eggs. Whisk quickly so that the eggs do not scramble.

Pour the egg mixture back into the saucepan, and stir in the heavy cream. Continue cooking over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a metal spoon. Remove from heat, and whisk in vanilla and cinnamon. Set aside to cool.

Pour cooled mixture into an ice cream maker, and freeze according to the manufacturer’s instructions.