Grapefruit. I started to softly cry over my grapefruit the other morning. Carefully cutting the outside circle of my grapefruit, I stopped. The memory of my mother so lovingly and thoroughly cutting my grapefruit for me as a girl flooded my mind and heart. Back then, I probably didn’t say, “thank you.” Back then, I took it for granted that she put such extraordinary care into something so ordinary. Back then, I’m embarrassed to admit, I never thought that it was any “big deal.” My soft crying could have turned into sobbing.
Now, as a mom to two little ones, I get it. The time, attention, care, focus, energy, and “groundedness in what is important” it took for my mom to cut my grapefruit and never even say anything about it – I know all too well now what a big deal that is! To take the time, to put off showering or brushing teeth or fixing her own breakfast, to put attention into one thing instead of being a multi-tasking queen, to muster up the energy from a night of little sleep from a tending to a sick little one, to find balance in divvying up time with more than one child, to recognize in the moment “THIS. This is what matters” — THAT is extraordinary.
And I am humbled. Grateful. I want to go back in time and savor every little cut out triangle of grapefruit and hug my mom and kiss her and tell her she rocks and thank her for all the little every day ways she showed me extraordinary love. Cutting my grapefruit. Making my lunch (yes, even through high school). Telling me to “take a mental health day.” Braiding my hair. Driving me (and team mates!) to and from soccer practice. The list goes on. Flashes of these memories flood my heart. And I pick up my phone to call her. She’s asleep. My heart can’t wait to tell her “thank you.”
Ordinary things done with extraordinary love.
Before having my two little ones, I wanted to do extraordinary things in this world. I had specific ideas about what that meant. None of them involved cutting grapefruit. But the other morning, I thought about how now it’s my turn to embody this legacy of loving with great tenderness and attention in the ordinary. And I am quietly grateful as I go about my afternoon. I cut an apple for my two little ones, peeling the skin carefully so my little C. can easily chomp away.
me beholding my little one
grandma now beholding my little one
“Ordinary things done with extraordinary love” … such a wonderful line. Often as a mother, I feel like I should be doing more. I do multitask, I lose patience. I’m imperfect. This gives me pause, however, and stepping back I’m reminded that the ordinary things that I do are enough, and they needn’t be done in a hurry. Thank you for the reminder to slow down.
The gratitude is a beautiful thing, too. Did your mom read this and just cry?
Melissa, my mom didn’t read it yet! I’m waiting for her to get online (happens about once a month!) to see the post. She’s so cute!
Lisa,
Lisa, I am sure some day your kids will have the same revelation.
Kay
Kay, I sure hope so. I know that Brian and I now do.
This is beautiful; thank you Lisa. I still cut grapefruit, pack lunches and even peel apples for my ten year old. I think I shall cry next time I do this too!
Hello Mrs. Green! Thanks for the comment. I love how you still do all this for your ten year old. I think we’ll be doing the same thing. My mom did it all the way thru high school. Sweet mama. She still does little things like this when I I’m meeting her downtown or she knows I’ll need a snack/lunch. So sweet.
ohhhh, the sweetness and truth of this post….love, love, love.
Thanks, Patience. Thanks.