When I think about May, beautiful happy thoughts come to mind. Warm, sunny days, birds singing, flowers blooming, people out and about enjoying family and
friends – even those they just happen to meet on sidewalks, trails and in parking lots. We seem to smile more (even behind masks) and like one another better.
I was thinking about May. Do you remember playing, Mother, May I? This was one of many games I played as a child. None required equipment, just imagination. Boys and girls, big kids and little, it didn’t matter. There were no set teams. In Mother, May I. it was Mother against the rest. Mother didn’t have to be
a girl. Mother would tell one of the kids in the line to, ‘take three scissor steps sideways,’ ‘take a giant leap forward,’ etc. The player had to say, ‘Mother, May
I?’ then do as instructed. If they failed to ask, ‘Mother, may I, they had to go back to start. The first to reach Mother, became Mother. Think about it for a minute.
There is life lesson there.
Wherever I’ve lived or traveled, May has meant beautiful flowers. Here in the Hill County, we don’t have to wait for May. Bluebonnets and other wildflowers line our roadsides and blanket our meadows from mid-March. Wildflowers continue to bloom throughout the summer. When we lived in the Northwest, May meant fragrant lilacs in Spokane, rhododendron and azalea in Seattle and wildflowers in alpine meadows. My favorite rhododendron, Pink Pearl, usually bloomed for Mother’s Day.
Mother’s Day, the second Sunday in May, is also Decoration Day at Macedonia Cemetery, near Uniontown, Arkansas. Generations still gather to decorate the
graves, worship, and enjoy family reunions. Some drive hundreds of miles to be with loved ones, living and departed. They bring flowers and food, sit on benches and sing the old Gospel Songs. ‘Will the Circle be Unbroken’ and ‘I’ll Fly Away’ have been sung for years. My maternal great-grandparents (he was a confederate soldier.) and grandparents and numerous cousins rest there waiting for the resurrection. I’d like to go back. I may someday. I’ll take red roses.
When I say ‘I may’, sometimes it means I’m thinking about it. I may if I decide to. Or I may not. Sometimes it means, I may if I’m able. There are things I’d like
to do, but I may not be able. I’m dragging my years behind me and they’re getting heavier. I may not be able to make it up some of the hills. But, you know
what? Much of it is up to me. I may enjoy the valleys and the smooth places.
Father, may I!