Happy Mothers Day!

Mothers Day is one of the few made up holidays that I actually enjoy. I have always loved making glitter cards, pancakes, snipping flowers, and such when I was little to make my mom smile. This past Mothers Day was a bit surreal knowing that next year I will be a real mommy. I was surprised to receive a Mothers Day care package complete with a pregnancy moo-moo (Thanks Mur!) and a Mothers Day card from Aunt Kim. I guess when you think about it, being pregnant sorta counts as being a mom. I mean I have to take care of myself and make wise decisions for the child within me. I guess that is close to having motherly actions.

Anyway, at church our pastor asked us to think of someone who had passed who you really miss... the woman (on Mothers Day) that I thought of was Jean Wojcik, or Babci. This is the first Mothers Day that I did not send her something sweet in the mail. This thought brought tears to my eyes in church. I am HUGELY blessed in the motherhood area. For example,
My own Mur is a rock solid woman of faith who leads by inspiration! (Mur also happens to be the most creative person I have ever known.)
Mikes Mom is a caring and selfless woman who always puts others before her. (She is also our MD of the family.)
My Grandma is a prayer warrior who teaches me how important it is to talk to God. (She is also incredible in the kitchen.)
My Grandmolly taught me manners as soon as I could sit up and finds ways to make anything fun! (I love how she teaches me our family history and traditions.)
My Gram (Mikes Gram) taught me to LOVE appletinies, j/k, she is amazing and finding the little things in life to make you laugh.
And Babci, was my polish grandma, the hostess with the mostess! She loved me before she knew me... and here is her story.

(I tried to make perogies like her... I did not succeed.)

The details leading up to meeting my Babci for the first time were full of quick decisions. I had no time to prepare to meet the woman that I had heard so much about. I wanted my first meeting to go perfectly. I wanted to have a great outfit, and look impressive. I wanted my Babci to like me and be proud of Mike for marrying a woman like me. Instead, I arrived at the home of Babci in clothes that I had been wearing for two days, hair that had not been brushed, and the scent of car on my body. Mike and I drove through the night on a whim to meet up with other family members in the area who were visiting. I hesitated to get out of the car after pulling up to the home. I took my time to be the last one in line to enter the door. What do you say to a grandma that you have never met? “Hi, I am the girl that married your grandson.”
As Tom, Dad, and Mike, entered the house I could hear loud noises. I hid behind Mike still wondering what words would come out of my mouth. The voices calmed and I knew that was my cue to appear. So I peaked around Mikes shoulder and saw Dzadji smiling with that silly smile that fills his whole face. You know, the one that makes his cheeks all puffy. Dzadji’s smile looks like the smile of a kid riding on a fire truck- its pure joy! Dzadji took me up into his arms and held me close and strong into his chest. He laughed in a deep bellow of a laugh. I heard footsteps and knew that it was now time to meet Babci. She was holding on to the wall to guide her footsteps towards me. I looked and saw a hand leading the way for Babci to turn around the corner. Our eyes met, her eyes sparkled, her footsteps quickened towards me, her arms spread around me, as she called out to the world in a sweet and loving voice “You are mine! You are mine!” She repeated those words over and over again. She stepped back to get a good look at me, holding onto my shoulders, our eyes met again, she managed to crack an even larger smile than the one that was spread across her face, her eyes still sparkling. Again she held me close continuing to tell me, “You are mine! You are mine!” It was then that I knew that Babci was special.
Babci took my arm with her frail hands and led me into the next room. She told me she had something she needed to show me. I had not even said a word yet. She brought me into the living room to a table full of photographs. Babci then pointed out all of the letters that I had ever written her through the past two years of engagement and marriage. She saved everything about me. She had every letter displayed as if it were framed art; my pictures were there among the other family photos too. She cherished me even though she did not know me. She loved me without even meeting me. It was then that I knew that my Babci had the heart of gold. She truly knew how to love.
Babci was a woman of great character. She loved deeply and constantly wanted to show her love. She was an amazing cook, hostess, wife, and grandma. I will never forget her and the impression she has left on my heart. I will keep her memory alive by aspiring to be more like her. When I close my eyes and think of her I imagine her dancing around heaven in a beautiful gown, with her brilliant smile, weightless body, swift and dainty feet, bringing joy to all. She doesn’t have to hold the wall anymore. She is free. We love you Babci, you live on in our hearts and actions. And although we could never dance as well as you, we will see you again someday and join in your dance.

May God bless and keep you. Happy Mothers Day.