#COVID19Chronicles-27: May 11, 2020: US Mother’s Day was never like this

Honestly, I’m not a big one for these commercialized special celebrations days, but some people in my life are.

My daughter came up to me on Friday and whispered “I’ve a plan for Sunday,” so we had a little conflab in a quiet corner after she’d finished her online classes. We discussed her ideas and she showed me a couple of alternatives she had in mind; we ran through the menu and she sent off an email order. I soon got a call to confirm and was set to pay on Saturday and a pickup time. I went to the Pegasus Hotel on Saturday afternoon and settled our bill. I wrote about that.

My daughter has indicated she had other plans for the day, so I tried to make sure her pieces, not fully laid out, could fall into place; all I had to do was wake her at 8am. After I did that, she got rolling. She walked out to the garden, where I was already installed, to find flowers and some old wine bottles as vases, which she then filled with water from a hosepipe. She arranged her displays and took them to her mother in bed and set for her grands on the breakfast table ready for their coming down around 9.

Next up she came back with some sparkling wine. Now, that was my first surprise, as I got a glass of bubbly with some blueberries in it; she took another up to her mother 🙂

Happy with her start, I heard her consulting with our housekeeper about how to make waffles–one of her mother’s specialties. I next heard her checking with her personal consultant: “Siri, how do I make waffles?” I heard whirring and sizzling and by the time the grands arrived, she had also put a gift of daily devotions for them on the table. After some hugs, she arrived with the array of the breakfast she’d prepared.

Everyone was thrilled, the grands especially when they saw the devotional books, as we sat and enjoyed a really special breakfast, with our cook still doing some more things in the kitchen. She was off-duty for the rest of the morning and the grands settled into the new normal of online church service, this time from the Washington Cathedral. I chilled as I had to do pickup later.

As midday approached, I came at the grands with a little surprise of my own. My pumpkin vines were now strong and had put on their first flowers. So, I cut the three on the plants and quickly fried them as a snack; the grands were nicely surprised. I explained that almost all part of pumpkins can be eaten.

I then went to pick up from the hotel.

The roads were like a regular Jamaican Sunday, quiet, but with some notable differences, including a car wearing its ‘obligatory’ mask.

Pulling into the hotel, the new normal was in full display with staff in masks checking purpose and then guiding cars to pickup or otherwise. The hotel had set up a simple line with cones to corral cars by the pickup area. Staff checked off orders and food was being brought out in paper bags (we’re still working on eliminating single-use plastic). Everything moved smoothly and Pegasus tried to add some atmosphere with a singer by the pickup area.

Back home, my daughter took over in sharing the food; she’d already set the table with some accents using breadfruit leaves. We wondered about the amount of food, and it seemed that Jamaican portions (feed 3 people per order) were huge, especially rice. All shared out and warmed through, we were ready to eat.

The grands just got more thrilled when they saw the table, and my mother-in-law was truly overcome with tearful joy when she said grace, after I had served all of the ladies. Of course, we enjoyed the meal and the chatter around it. A cousin passed by with some pool toys for a visit later. Another Bahamian friend came to drop off cupcakes–we usually have an extended Father’s and Mother’s Days lunch with her family on those days.

Dinner done, all could chill and ethnic fatigue took hold fast. My daughter stretched out on the dining chairs and took a solid nap–a good day’s caring done, so well deserved. I also just laid back. Others found their spots and the hum of snores was sweet 🙂

My daughter asked about when Father’s Day would be. I joked that we could be doing something similar all the way till Christmas. You never know.

Author: Dennis G Jones (aka 'The Grasshopper')

Retired International Monetary Fund economist. My blog is for organizing my ideas and thoughts about a range of topics. I was born in Jamaica, but spent 30 years being educated, living, and working in the UK. I lived in the USA for two decades, and worked and travelled abroad, extensively, throughout my careers and for pleasure. My views have a wide international perspective. Father of 3 girls. Also, married to an economist. :)