I staggered in from the grocery store this evening with a hunger headache, clutching my to-go bag of Panda Express orange chicken and mixed vegetables, leaving the groceries for Tom and Daniel to lug down to the house. All I could think about was taming my growling stomach and aching head.
But then I noticed the box. A long green and black box sitting on the bar, ProFlowers written on the side.
"Where did the flowers come from?" I knew they weren't from Tom. "You're not my mother" is his Mother's Day mantra.
"From Tommy, of course," he told me. Of course. Tommy, my sweet son who is making his own money now. Of course. Tommy.
Mystery solved, I waited until I finished eating and had the groceries put away to finally open the box and pull out the card ... "Happy Mother's Day, Nina Barbara" it read. At the bottom, under dozens of X's and O's, it was signed, "Love, Nicole"
Ah, they were from my sweet goddaughter, not my sweet Tommy.
I've heard being a grandmother is the next best thing to being a mother (some say it's better!) I don't know about that. What I do know is being Nicole's Nina is a wonderful blessing.
Thank you for my beautiful roses, my beautiful Nicole! I hope I get to see you again soon and give you a big thank-you hug!