Graduation parties and a rainy Mothers’ Day

 

Jacob has had a great weekend—at least I assume he did, since I haven’t seen him yet. But last night was senior prom for Paschall High School, and he and several of his buddies were all spiffy in tuxes, with lovely girls in gowns on their arms. Jacob does not have a steady girlfriend, so he took a girl who is a good friend—you know how that works. I was pleased to see the picture and note how modest her gown was, and Christian said all the girls at the photo shoot had long gowns—none of those skimpy mini-things. Of course, prom itself is sort of anticlimactic—they don’t stay long, and the after-parties are the big deal. My behind-the-fence neighbor wrote that her son would be hosting an after-party in their pool and cabana and she had reminded them of noise control. I never heard a sound, and when I went to the bathroom at three o’clock, all was dark and quiet.

Golf seniors

Today the moms of the seniors on the Paschal gold team hosted a party with a gambling theme. Jordan has a lovely entertainment area in her office, with freedom to use it, so that was the site. Christian reports it was a great success.

Other than a golf party, today was not a huge success. It was dark and thunder rolled, rain fell for much of the day. Usually I rather enjoy a day like that, but today I did not feel well, so that darkened my mood. Benji too was a bit of a worry—rain doesn’t bother him, and he appears to enjoy mud. But then he comes in and decides the upholstered furniture is there for his comfort. I have upended the cushions on his two favorite chairs, so when I called him in tonight, he took his wet muddy self to his crate. Score one for me.

My Jamie arrived late last night—later than he intended because his rental was an electric car, and he didn’t realize how long it took to charge. When he arrived, coming from Frisco, he had only charged it for seventy miles, so he charged it overnight and hoped it took. It struck me that it was like the early days of gasoline engines—at first people were bumfuzzled by maintenance, but they got used to it. We will all eventually get used to electric cars—maybe just before cars themselves are phased out.

It was of course a delight to have Jamie here. He is, and I don’t think he’ll mind me saying this,

Hamburgers in the cottage

the poorest of my children at keeping in touch frequently. But when he’s here, he is, as Jordan says, totally into the moment. He gives great massages, sometimes painful as he zeroes in on every spasm in your back, but he’s tireless and dedicated. And he discovered last night what may be the cause of my lethargy and lack of appetite—swollen glands in my neck. Though he didn’t have time this weekend, he has been known to lull me to sleep with his acoustic guitar. Christian grilled hamburgers late last night, and they ate in my cottage—though I, already not feeling well, stuck to yogurt.  After the Burtons went inside, Jame and I had a long talk for which I was most grateful. His life has been turned upside down in the last year, and I was glad to hear him talk about it.

This morning, Jamie went for a run and was gone longer than he meant to be because he so enjoyed running through old, familiar neighborhoods. Then it was a rush for him to shower and get out the door for his plane back to Denver, where he is now living. But I have something to look forward to: he, his older sister, and older brother will all be here, again briefly, for a party that Jordan and I are hosting for Jacob—well, in truth, she is hosting and my name is on the invitation.

Hope the mothers among us—and that takes many shapes and forms—were well celebrated today. I know for many it is a hard day, and I reach out to them. For what a good friend would term a less saccharine, Hallmark version of the history of Mothers’ Day, read here: (69) May 11, 2024 - by Heather Cox Richardson (substack.com)