A Special Day

Chris called our mom “Ma” – not sure why or when that became his special way of acknowledging her. To me, it’s sweet, and I can still hear him saying it. He was very protective of our mom and so much of his attention to “little things” was a gift from her: singing, whistling, gardening, planting flowers, cooking and baking. It’s a southern saying, I believe, and one we heard often, “you can always use a little something sweet”!

Having dessert, especially after supper (aka dinner/evening meal), was a part of our lives. It was never anything fancy and might be rice pudding or a homemade cherry cream cheese pie. Treats that came by delivery of an ice cream truck were next level! If they came through your neighborhood growing up, you know that this was an extra special vehicle. Hearing the happy music long before this four wheeled delight carrying delicious desserts made its way down our street was the epitome of childhood joy. 

Sundays were sacred days in our house, a day of rest. It was based on a spiritual premise of taking time to pause and recognize the many blessings in your life and to refrain from giving any energy to material things. As kids, it was the one day of the week we didn’t have to make our beds. WIN! It also translated into making no purchases on Sundays – NOT a win, especially if the joyful and melodious sounds of a treat bearing truck reached your ears beckoning you to abandon any adherence to ideas that were meant to facilitate a practice of reflection and refrain from earthly delights.

On one particular Sunday afternoon, I was in my room when I heard the echoing music of the ice cream truck making its way towards our house. I was near the window and saw a flash. It was Chris, and he was running towards the tunes. As the oldest, I did my best not to break any rules. For Chris, it seemed rules existed to be broken. I remember my exact thoughts, “he’s going to get in trouble”. Apparently, my mom saw her youngest, too. He was running as fast as his little legs could carry him towards the forbidden frozen treats. Chris made his purchase and his way back to our house. I heard my mom call his name and ask, “Christopher, what do you have behind your back?”. Without hesitation, he produced the ice cream cone and said, “Happy Mother’s Day”. No, it wasn’t Mother’s Day, but yes, my mom’s heart did melt. Together, mom and son enjoyed one of many special moments and for a period of time the normal observation designated for Sundays was temporarily put aside.