I woke this morning satisfied that I had made time to see to the traditions we have established for Valentine’s Day expressions of love in our home. Our daughter’s package had been mailed and arrived with treats and tissue to her home away from home at university. My husband and son would wake to a well decorated dining room table with baskets of goodies and cards for each. My mom would even have her card and a few chocolates for her day. And last, but never least, my in-laws would have a card from us expressing how much we love and appreciate them.
Then I opened my Facebook and saw this:
My daughter had baked this cake for her “home” – her roommates and friends. The chocolate hearts and red candy hearts were shared from the package we sent her. The baking she gets from somewhere that is not me…but her paternal grandmother and aunt and cousin are incredible cake makers and decorators. The marking of special days with ritual and tradition and generosity of time and spirit…that she gets from her mama.
And it made this mother’s heart swell with pride and satisfaction that the legacy of living life with intention and meaning has been passed along and carried into the home she makes for herself. That makes me all kinds of happy.