Is there a Mother of a son anywhere whose children are grown who doesn't remember those times when she was still her son's best girl  and the recipient of his tokens of affection ? Sometimes weeds with pretty blossoms picked from the roadside or the vacant lot down the street, but more often picked from hers or the neighbours' garden.  Hopefully from her own flower beds !  Picked in all innocence of course and with the best of intentions, but still requiring an apology when the neighbour's beautifully kept flower garden had been raided. Tell me, how does Mommy scold when she has just been presented with  such a sincere token of love?  I never did quite manage to figure  that one out !

 I know I was always happy to see the small outstretched hand holding the golden blossoms of the dandelion, or a bunch of daisies or buttercups rather than a beautiful red rose or other carefully cultivated bloom. And I do recall explaining on more than one occasion that I definitely loved those beautiful dandelion, buttercup and daisies so much more than just a rose or tulip.

I honestly don't believe I can recall any bouquet received through the years which even came close to the beauty of those clusters of wilting dandelion, daisy, or buttercup blossoms  held together with so much love in the tiny grubby fingers of a little boy's hand.

Those events never failed to make my heart swell with love for the bearer of such a magnificent gift and invariably brought a lump to my throat which to this day I cannot find words to adequately express.  My sweet little boy always offered them with such pride. 

How many of us continued to replenish the supply of water in the vase, or whatever vessel had been used to hold the bounty, as that bouquet continued to hold a position of honour in our home long after those blossoms had faded  and died ?

 Is there a sweeter memory for any Mother ? I seriously doubt it.

The moment I first saw the wonderful art rendering I have used above the memories flooded my mind, and I knew I had to someday indulge myself by allowing those and other such recollections to be the subject of a project on my site.  I promised myself I would  make the time to do nothing but sit and daydream and recall those special times one day soon. Today is that day. Although, if I am totally truthful I have to admit that I daydream quite frequently these days, perhaps because with retirement I find myself with more leisure time, and more often than not, my daydreams frequently take me back to those precious days when I was a young mother watching my little boy grow into the very special man he is today. 

Prejudiced viewpoint ? ... probably ... but show me any mother who does not suffer from the same affliction.

That first day of school. Turning your precious child over to the school system and the day to day guidance of someone other than yourself. Hiding your trepidation at the prospect in order to not complicate further this momentous day in your child's life. One they have looked forward to with so much impatience over the past several months and now that the day is here  has them filled with hesitation. Can you really turn and walk away  without the tears starting to flow ? Of course you can, and will. It is the natural order of things and your child will do just fine without Mommy holding his or her hand. It's allowed to let those tears  have their way once you are safely out of sight, but it is also time to realize that this day is only the first of many such milestones you will face in the years to come. Somehow this one is extraordinary however.

 Another memory which holds a very special place in my heart are those Christmas Concerts and School Pageants which are such momentous occasions in a  small child's life and which every parent  recalls with a smile, and perhaps even a tear, as you remember the innocence and courage displayed as your child takes centre stage, sets aside their natural tendency to shyness at being the focus of attention, and  is absolutely brilliant in his or her presentation ... in mother's opinion of course.   The memories of the pride and the nervousness as you mentally lent support and encouragement through every syllable or movement are as vivid today as if it had been only yesterday.

Has any of us received a Valentine or Mother's Day Card which was more lovely or more appreciated than those created with so much enthusiasm and  such genuine excitement  by your little boy ?  A little boy who was definitely more interested in playing in puddles or imagining himself scoring a Stanley Cup winning goal while playing road hockey with his buddies than doing 'dumb mushy stuff '? Do you recall the pride on that wee face as he presented his gift , the construction and design of which had been solely his responsibility and which had been  secretly completed  all on his own ? Do you, like me still have each and every one of those masterpieces carefully saved in a special chest which is filled with cherished treasures ? Wonderful reading for a rainy day  or a day which makes one feel the need for a hug. ( works  for me every single time by the way ! )

Was it really that many years ago ? Where has all that time gone ? And how did it go by so quickly ? It seems as it it was only yesterday  I still quietly tiptoed into his room  each and every night, as the very last thing before retiring for the night, to bestow a last gentle kiss on  his soft cheek as he slept like an angel. Never mind that he might not have behaved like one that day, once asleep there was no other description which could possibly apply. My son will probably be amused to know  that custom continued well into his teen age years. I treasured those moments , and now I treasure the memories.

As I sit here with my mind flooded with memories I am reminded once again that a  son holds the  irrevocable rights to a large part of your heart which has been his from the day he was born. As a little boy he depended on you for the security only your arms could provide. He shared his discoveries with you and all of his problems were  solved by a hug and a kiss from you. The bond between Mommy and her little boy is one which words really do not describe.

As a mother watches her son grow up she accepts that she can advise and guide him still, but only when her advice is sought.  She can offer her support and unconditional love but she must give him freedom to develop on his own. As he grows up, so do his problems, and one of life's lessons you and he learn is that you can no longer simply kiss his troubles away. The closeness you once shared is lessened by his need for independence and privacy. Through the years as he seeks independence you learn to let go and trust him to  remember always how loved he is and that your arms will be here for as long as you inhabit this earth  should he need their comfort.

The memories of days now long past when a young mother grew up along with her son are so very  precious  to me today as I recollect those special times  that I  expect I will very probably indulge in the pastime of  daydreams and quiet thoughts  more frequently  in days to come as I enter this new phase of my life which they call the 'golden years'. 

I think I might dispute that classification.  If these are the golden years   .. what were those years when my little boy was becoming his own person ? I wouldn't trade one moment, or one memory of that time for all the wealth in the universe.

Thank you Son.