Tomorrow will be a one of a kind Mother’s Day for me.
I’ll wake up with no kids in the house. Just me and my husband and the Sunday New York Times. My kids will be brought over mid-morning by their dad, my ex-husband. We’ll have a little brunch, shoot some hoops and hopefully go on a bike ride.
Just a few hours together and then I’ll be on my way to Gainesville. No, I’m not going to party at the University of Florida. I’m driving up to Shands with my good friend E. And it’s incredibly fitting that she and I are making this drive on Mother’s Day.
Besides being my friend, witchy confidant and trouble making partner of almost a decade, E is the mother of two young kids and the wife of one pain-in-the-ass but incredibly loving husband. About seven weeks ago, E got a new kidney. Both of hers had been ravaged by lupus and, at the young age of 31, she had to do dialysis every night.
The dialysis would only help her for so long so her doctors started sniffing around her family tree looking for a donor. They figured out that E’s mom was a match. A match made in heaven and in some bedroom, with E’s dad, over 30 years ago. (Well, you weren’t delivered by the stork, were you?) And her mother agreed, both gladly and lovingly, to give her one. The ultimate parental sacrifice. But I’m sure they were both more than a little terrified.
The surgery went off without a hitch but accompanied by the requisite pain, discomfort and some big ass staples leaving a train track around E’s abdomen. But seven weeks later, both E and her mother are doing great. E’s been able to say goodbye to dialysis. Her kidney numbers are right where they should be. And I can tell by the amount of cursing she’s doing that she’s pretty much back to normal. And this puts a huge smile on my face and in my heart.
Tomorrow when we’re making the trek to Gainesville for her check-up, we’ll talk about a lot of things. The things that we usually talk about. Sex toys, our children, husbands who are perfect in their imperfections and, of course, our mothers. Her mother and the gift that will literally keep on giving for a long, long time.
And my mother who would give me anything of hers if I asked for it. Like the awesome bracelet I snagged from her jewelry box the last time that I was at her house. I’ll talk about being sad for my mom for having to celebrate her first Mother’s Day ever without her mom. And my husband for not having his mom around. E will probably talk about being able to spend many more Mother’s Days with her kids.
And we’ll also talk about being moms. And all of the hard work, love, frustration and, yes, happiness that comes with the territory. And how we would give our kids whatever they needed. Because that’s what moms do. We should know. We’ve learned from two of the best.
Happy Mother’s Day.
P.S. Thanks for the bracelet, Mom. Oh yeah, and the ring too. The one that started with Eva D’Lugin and has made its way through all of these years to end up on my finger. Love you.