A couple of weeks ago I did something that I haven’t done in a long time. It was both nostalgic and exciting.Mom, Luke, Sarah Beth and I visited the Henry Vilas Zoo in Madison. It was the “perfect fall day” and we enjoyed every bit of it! After eating a small picnic in the warm sunshine and beautiful colors we walked through the zoo’s front gate. I’d been to this zoo before some years back and I quickly began to get my bearings. To our left were the concession stands and the gift shop where Katie and I bought cute socks, hers with giraffes and mine with elephants. Dad had always bought us a couple of miniature toy animals every time we visited a zoo. We’d built up quite a menagerie of our own; visiting the zoo was a favorite family activity. Every year Mom & Dad would use money from our Grandparents to buy our family season passes to one of the zoos or museums. This day we passed by the commercialized plastic and stuffed products heading straight for the real animals.
The first creature we saw was a large orangutan. He lazily half sat, half hung from the fence of his habituate, we rushed up and leant on our own fence. We all stared at each other: he with a bored expression, absently eating grass in a round cow – like chew; we fascinated and curious. The stare war continued. We found him every so amusing and he, well I couldn’t say what he thought, but taking a clue from his deadpan expression we were nothing new or exciting to this impassive ape. Sarah Beth broke the silence exasperated and confused she demanded “Why don’t He SAY something???”
Having just watch The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe on DVD and then coming face to face with an animal displaying such strong expressions and looking at us so candidly, it seemed only right that he should open his mouth and speak! Poor Sarah Beth! One thing became very clear: it had been much too long since we’ve visited the zoo.
Your unfailing love without limit, your ability to soothe my every hurt, the way you are on duty, unselfishly, every hour, every day, makes me so grateful that I am yours, and you are mine.
With open arms and open heart, with enduring patience and inner strength, you gave so much for me, sometimes at your expense.
You are my teacher, my comforter, my encourager, appreciating all, forgiving all. Sometimes I took you for granted, Mom, but I don’t now, and I never will again.
I know that everything I am today relates to you and your loving care.
I gaze in wonder as I watch you being you— my miracle, my mother.
