Thorny rose

Mother's Day for me is usually just "meh". I never really expect much from G and the boys and really, I'm okay with that. I mean, Sundays are soccer game days, and this year would be no different except that we could enjoy three home games instead of all over the NH and MA map. And another plus - sun! (After nearly 2 weeks of mostly rain, getting a sunny Mother's Day was a definite plus.) So the three younger boys gave me cards they made, and then G gave me a gift, which I was not at all expecting. We just don't swap gifts to each other in May and June, not for Mother's Day or Father's Day or even our wedding anniversary, which will be 16 years next month. I unwrapped the newspaper wrapping to reveal a Kellogg's waffle box. Typical G, practical joker. I wondered whatever could it be in the waffle box? It was an iPad. An honest to God iPad. For Mother's Day! Something he knew I'd love and the kids could enjoy, too. I couldn't really say this Mother's Day could be summed up as just "meh" and for that,I was really glad.

 Off to soccer we eventually went, where Chris and Joey's teams ended with losses, and finally Tommy's with a win. After the game, the team approached their mothers each bearing a single red rose. I knew this would not be easy for Tommy to do - to hand that rose to me. He hates me and it's no secret. He hates my cooking and when I ask him a question or even when I so much as sneeze. He tries to break me down constantly and hates me more when I don't react to his insults and instead, carry on with my life and remind him that I still love him. Still, he walked up to me and handed me that rose, in silence of course. I certainly didn't expect anything else. I know his coach was the one who gave the boys the roses to give to their moms, but I was nonetheless thankful for that flower. I brought it home and put it in a vase to enjoy all week long. But Tommy had other plans for that rose. While I was outside, he plucked it down to the stem. I guess he was going to show me what he really thought of the rose and me and just how far he would go. His plucking the petals off that rose hurt more than the thorns ever could. But if he wants me to react, he will be disappointed. I'm going to leave that naked rose in that vase all week long.

Spiteful? Maybe, but my reason for leaving it isn't out of spite. My reason for leaving it is because he otherwise would have given me nothing and today, my oldest son gave me a red rose. How could I not love that?