little star, smiling

my daughter wanted to make sure that what she sent for mother’s day wasn’t late. so she overnighted it. yesterday. i received it at work today and had one of those ‘uh oh’ moments…

if you’re a parent, you likely have a trove of things bestowed over the years on mother’s or father’s day. tender, grubby notes written in crayons or coffecups, or socks or ties or any number of things. cards that have yellowed a bit, in envelopes that have curled with time and age.

and you likely will also understand when i say the moment in which you receive the first gift given with care and obvious thought is the one that really just… well… it’s hard to put to words. likely impossible.

don’t get me wrong, every gift a parent ever gets is found on days that have nothing to do with the officially sanctioned day for honoring or gifting parents. those gifts come every day, over years, constantly… in smiles, in hugs, in noticing the growing size of your child’s hand as it rests in your own.

they come on the first day of school… or the last…. or on any day inbetween when age and insight are able to serve young mind or tender spirit find its way in the world.

but we all know that the coffecups and ties and such are somewhat obligatory, and over the years, you see enough of the ‘oh my god, it’s mother’s day…. quick… where’s a store!’ variety that you learn to grin for them and appreciate them as expressions both of care and success — that their life is full and merry, as it should be, so sometimes those ‘official days’ are forgotten. which is beauty in and of itself.

but there is the day when, for the first time, an unexpectedly thoughtful, tender, and truly loving expression or demonstration arrives. and when it does, it lands like sunshine but brings the rain.

the package arrived today, overnight as stated. i was curious to the point of pain. heh. given permission to open it immediately, i did so, the receptionist giggling at my eager inquisitiveness.

in truth, had she sent nothing but the cards, it was enough. there were four. one that cradled three others. i present them here in order – cover, then interior. you tell me — what do you think the reaction was?

the receptionist grinned and handed me a tissue. i just stood there, pole-axed, i suppose. stunned and touched and humbled and just… thankful. for so many things. so many.

the receptionist had to remind me there were other things in the box. heh.

two, actually. a piece given in honor of my enjoyment and one in honor of my commitment.

just amazing in so many ways. in truth, i’m still pretty much speechless. but over the entire day there has been this soft sense of humble thanks — not for the gifts — but for what they point to… and for the sense of having in any manner been capable of rendering the notion of ‘just because’ clearly for her.

for while i smile for the beautiful things she shows me in every moment, in this moment, i smile most for knowing… really knowing, that she will shine in many ways, and in many lives, long after the one i am enjoying has faded.

thoughtfulness, mindfulness, care, tenderness, the ability and willingness to honor the world around her and the things it teaches… these are the best gifts. all, demonstrated here, and i have never been so truly proud of her than to see them so carefully displayed. i look forward to them shining more brightly as she walks.

oh little star, shine. (smile)

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