What I Want for Mother’s Day

By Karen McCullough

Mother’s Day is in a couple of days, and I’ll actually be getting exactly what I want from my kids and grandkids to celebrate the day.

They already know there are few things I need and not many that I want. I’m in the fortunate position of being able to buy the things I most want and have learned that nearly all possessions bring only a brief jolt of joy, if even that much, so I desire very few.

My family knows that I really don’t want anything that will sit on a shelf and need to be dusted or washed. I have plenty of those already and I’m trying to get rid of many of them. There are exceptions. Pictures, particularly of them and their children, are always welcome. Since I go through coffee mugs all too quickly, I’m usually happy to get a new one, especially if it relates to a special time or place.

I love getting cards, especially those that are personalized or show that some thought and effort went into them. And flowers always bring me joy.

But what I want most from my children and grandchildren is time with them. Time spent playing games, talking, walking, shopping, eating ice cream, visiting museums, even reading stories with them.

This coming Sunday I’ll be heading to the beach for a week with my husband, sister-in-law, two daughters, and my younger daughter’s husband and four children. The children are all boys – ages 7, 5 (he turned six yesterday but we’ll be celebrating his birthday at the beach), 4, and 2.

If all goes as usual there will be plenty of fun, laughter, talk, games, good food, drink, sun, and surf. We’ll spend time reading and playing in the sand and ocean water. We’ll talk endlessly, scatter for walks and shopping trips, and then share experiences later on.

I can’t think of anything I could want more than that for Mother’s Day.

The Delights of Walking Everywhere

by Karen McCullough

(I didn’t know today was Grandparents’ Day when I wrote the post a week or so ago, but it seems appropriate!)

Roses and other flowers blooming along

their driveway

My husband and I have just returned from a visit to our son, daughter-in-law, and two grandchildren in England. It was a wonderful trip, filled with good times with all of the family and a bit of sight-seeing in their area. We did a lot of walking and it enhanced the trip in so many ways.

They live in Hythe, Kent, an area known as England’s Garden, and with good reason. Nearly every house has extensive gardens filled with profusions of blooming roses, dahlias, fuchsia, butterfly bush, hollyhocks, hydrangeas, and many others. The picture shows the gorgeous row of flowers beside my son’s driveway.  Given how hard it is to keep anything alive, much less blooming, through the hot summer in our central North Carolina home, it’s safe to say I have garden envy.

Of course that’s mostly the result of a climate that stays moderate and rather rainy most of the time. Daytime temperatures over eighty are considered hot and several days in a row of those highs are a heat wave. We were there in August and day-time highs hovered in the upper sixties to low seventies, which they agreed was pretty much normal. We agreed it was pretty delightful. We were fortunate that it only rained on us a couple of times.

Looking out over Hythe from the hill. The English Channel is

 in the distance.

Hythe is just southeast of Dover and Folkestone along the Channel coast and it’s a lovely old town. The High Street is lined with an assortment of shops that cover most necessities and a lot of fun things. “Charity Shops” abound. (Think small versions of the Goodwill and Salvation Army stores.) There’s even a charity bookshop, where I found several interesting tomes I’d never seen in the U.S. There are a couple of restaurants and quite a few coffee shops. Sidewalks are narrow and crowded but for part of the day the road itself is closed off and turned into a pedestrian walkway.

One of the great benefits of this part of England is that you can walk almost everywhere, a great feature for us since we couldn’t all squeeze in my son’s car at one time. And walk, we did. We spent a couple of happy mornings wandering around the old town of Hythe, but we also walked with the family from their house, situated on a hill well above the town, down to the seashore, a distance of about a mile and a half. We also traveled on foot to shops, coffee houses, and even the grounds of the Hythe festival.

When we made treks to other places, like Rochester Castle, and Dungeness, we took the train, and then walked from the station to wherever we wanted to be. Generally it wasn’t a very long journey.

Because of the small children, we didn’t eat out as often as we might have. But there was a Sainsbury’s grocery store on the route from the town center of Hythe to my son’s house, so we frequently stopped there to get ready-made meals or ingredients for putting something together and schlepped them up the hill to their home.

We walked and talked and gazed and walked and talked some more. The pedometer app on my phone said I did about 14,000 steps most days, which added up to about 5 miles of walking per day.
Long strolls gave us plenty of opportunity to interact with each other, share stories, and compare notes on a wide variety of subjects. Walking let me stop to admire gorgeous views from the hillsides, glorious flowers everywhere, interesting and different birds, and the neatly compact houses that are hallmarks of English homes. We stopped frequently to pluck the blackberries growing in abundance all over and pop them in our mouths.

The scenery is beautiful and because the area is new to us, every corner and turn seemed to present something new and interesting. I blessed the new pair of sturdy walking shoes I’d bought shortly before we left because they supported me well through the many miles I put on them.

Back at home my husband and I walk most days, long marches through our neighborhood early in the morning in summer, to avoid the heat. It’s good for us and feels good, but it isn’t as pleasant as being able to walk to so many interesting and different places in Hythe, Kent.

And I miss the company and chatter of my son, daughter-in-law, and especially their two children, Freya (4), and James (2). 

Thoughts on a New Grandchild

By the time this is posted, my sixth grandchild should be born. My daughter is due March 4 and has had two previous C-sections. The doctors are trying to accommodate her wish for a VBAC, but they won’t let her go much beyond her due date since the chances of complications increase dramatically as the baby gets larger.

At the time I’m writing this in late February, the child is still in utero, though we know that he is a boy, the third boy they will have. His two older brothers will be a hard act to follow. His three-and-a-half-year-old oldest brother has already taught himself to read, write, and do simple arithmetic. His other older brother is a physical whirlwind who loves music and climbing on everything possible.

But like his brothers, he starts off life with many advantages. The boys are blessed with highly intelligent, spiritual, and academically-oriented parents who’ve read to them almost from the day they came home, who provide a variety of enriching toys and spend a great deal of time interacting with them and guiding them.

This has made me think about how many children are born into this world without the advantages those children enjoy. For too many around the world, their parents can’t even meet their basic needs for food, shelter, and clean water. Enrichment of any sort is far beyond their grasp. Survival is the only battle they can fight.

And even where basic survival isn’t necessarily a battle, many families are still too marginal either economically or culturally to be able to do any more than meet basic needs.  Their own lack of education and cultural development hinders many more from even knowing what they could be doing to improve their children’s chances of success in life.

It’s a huge, massive problem and one I can’t solve, though I try to do what I can to support literacy programs and basic outreaches to the poor and hungry. Plus I do what I can to support my own children in their efforts to raise theirs. That’s why when you’re reading this I’ll be in Indiana where I hope to be cuddling a brand-new grandson, plus reading to and playing with his older brothers.