“Just say, ‘Thank you.'” my dad advises when I try to deflect compliments. He’s right most of the time, but this time “thank you” just didn’t feel like nearly enough. It was Sunday evening and I was heading to bed after a most spectacular Mother’s Day. I tried to express to the girls and my husband how much the day had meant to me.
“I can’t tell you how touched I am by all you did to make this day special.”
“Thank you for making me a mother and for being the most wonderful daughters.”
“Your kindness and thoughtfulness is beyond….just beyond.”
“Thank you for a day of fun, love, and spectacular food and entertainment.”
None of it seemed quite right. None of it felt like enough, but I couldn’t keep blabbering on like this. I wanted so badly to capture all that I was feeling with words, but I couldn’t do it. I wanted so badly for the girls to know how full my heart was. Even as I lay in bed thinking back on the day that started with my coffee and cereal served on a paper doily, a beautifully set table filled with handmade cards and the most thoughtful gifts, followed by brunch with my dad, stepmother, and extended family (for the first time around one table in more than a year), and then on to a walk along the beach, back home for some crossword puzzle solving and newspaper reading, and then fancy appetizers and the New York City Ballet Gala, a most delicious dinner of my favorite swordfish, and finished off with a game of Baby Boomer Trivial Pursuit and doughnuts from THE best doughnut shop around, I struggled to find words.
Maybe there aren’t words for this. Maybe it’s just this overwhelming feeling of joy and love and gratitude that can’t be captured. Maybe I shouldn’t even try to capture it. Maybe I just need to let it fill me up. Maybe I just need to savor it and hold onto it as long as I possibly can. I guess I just have to trust that my family knows that they created this experience and that I thank them. Maybe I’ll just have to leave it at that.