Last night a group of boy mamas got together to pack our kids care packages before we send them off to camp in one short week. Instead of all the mamas stressing, shopping and packing alone, we joined forces . We laughed so hard we cried, more than once, about how the boys will never remember that their mamas sent them slingshot chickens in their care packages. But we worked hard the entire time knocking out 51 total packages.
This picture, and the current state of my nails, reminds me of an old country song I used to sing growing up.
And reachin’ out to hold me, when I had a nightmare
You could read quite a story in the callous’ and lines
Years of work and worry had left their mark behind
And patted my back for something done right
There are things that I’ve forgotten that I loved about the man
But I’ll always remember the love in daddy’s hands
Daddy’s hands were hard as steel when I’d done wrong
Daddy’s hands weren’t always gentle but I’ve come to understand
There was always love in daddy’s hands
Sacrificed unselfishly just to keep us all fed
If I could do things over, I’d live my life again
And never take for granted the love in daddy’s hands
Our kids won’t remember the slingshot chickens.
Or the silly string, or the pop rocks. They might not even open everything in those care packages. Some of it will surely return home, covered in mold, smashed inside the bed sheets. But they’ll remember they came. They’ll remember the loves notes. And mama working together with her “village” to make sure everyone received them.
They’ll remember the love in mamas hands.
Even though there were a lot of days mamas hands were busy doing things that seem so insignificant to the life of a kid. Even though mamas choices weren’t always perfect, they will remember how much she cared. Even though the month of May made her feel like she was losing her ever-loving mind.
They will look back and remember her love.
Whatever you’re doing today, mama or not, consider this:
Long after you’re gone, you’ll be remembered by the love notes you wrote, with your hands and with your life.
Keep writing love notes.
to more love,