For many weeks I taped each card to the back wall to remind me of the love and encouragement each represented. At some point from the sheer weight of them all, they fell down but not before the wall was pretty much covered.
For many, many weeks during a time that was especially difficult for me my mother sent me a card of encouragement, often with extra cash even though at the time she was working for very little money herself.
Each of those cards meant so much to me. I knew in that time of darkness I was not alone. I was remembered. I was loved. Someone who loved me very much was praying for me and caring for me.
My mother still sends me cards of encouragement, often with bookmarks, poems, magnets or other tokens of affection. The cards she chooses always have the right words for the right time. I know I am one of many people blessed by the perfect message at the perfect time.
That is because mamma listens to the Voice prompting her to reach out to certain people who need a boost or just need to know someone cares about them. Many times she has learned afterwards that her card came on the very day that person needed it the most.
Mamma also shares encouragement and prayers through the modern email system of communication, but she has not lost the art of choosing actual cards people can hold in their hands or even stick up in a prominent place in their home to remind them they are not forgotten.
She sends out dozens of cards every week. Some are for birthdays and other celebratory occasions, but many of them are for people she is impressed to encourage in some way.
We generally get together for Motherís Day weekend, which is also mammaís birthday. This year her birthday is Saturday. This year with illness in the family we decided to wait a week to give everybody more time to recuperate, so we will spoil mamma with special meals and gifts next weekend.
I sent her a card ahead of time, though, so she could have something for this weekend, and we will talk on the phone this weekend, too, which is the highlight of my week, our Sunday morning conversations.
The card I sent to her let her know I appreciated her support and would always rely on it, regardless of how old I get.
Thereís no encouragement, no hug, no thoughtful words, no surprise in the mail, no card with that special signature like a motherís. Every time I receive a card in the mail and see her handwriting, I feel better already, regardless of the day I have had or what I face in the future.
I know I am fortunate to still have my mother, my best friend, in my life, and I donít take that blessing for granted. Each moment at this stage in both of our lives is precious beyond words.
But I am glad she still puts her love into words for me over and over again.
And I cannot say it back often enough Ö
Ö I love you so much mamma.