Lorenz and Friends

Colorful table no place to hold pity party

Knowing that none of my four children could be home with me last May for Mother's Day, I was in a giant funk. Jeanne called the week before to let me know that she'd be flying home from New York in mid-June after her teaching semester ended. Julia and Michael and their spouses who all live 80 and 100 miles away in Madison and Lodi were planning to celebrate Mother's Day the following Thursday when I had to drive to Madison anyway to give a speech. Andrew, my youngest, in college in Arizona, was busy working at a new job on campus and he'd talked me into visiting him the last week in May.

So there I was, alone and lonely when I awoke on Mother's Day. I told myself that if I kept busy all day I wouldn't have time to continue my pity party. So I got up, fixed tea and toast and sat on the deck admiring my sanding job on the picnic table the day before. I decided to paint the second coat, probably brown to match the deck floor, when I got home from church.

Church that morning was not a very spiritual event for me as I sat there with all those grandmothers, mothers and children. Some were carrying beautiful long-stemmed red roses they'd purchased in the church vestibule for their mothers. I was almost embarrassed to be sitting there alone and glad that I'd picked a seat way in the back.

When Fr. Bob asked all the mothers to stand for a special blessing my eyes filled with tears. Then I caught myself. No! I will not give in to this self-pity stuff. I must get out of this depressing mood!

I looked up at the stained-glass windows and marveled at the many colors, so pleasing to the eye: bright red, yellow, turquoise, orange and many shades of green and blue. That's it! I'll paint the picnic table all different colors! Multi-colored stripes. I couldn't wait for the last song to finish.

At home I put on my paint clothes, counted the wood slats in the octagon-shaped table and arranged 20 small bottles of brightly-colored paint. I started with purple, being careful not to touch the slat next to the one I was painting. I'd paint for a while, stop to answer the phone when one of my kids called to wish me a happy Mother's Day, then head back to the deck.

It was a painstaking job. And like most 50-something women who live alone, I started talking to myself aloud.

"Hey this purple is the exact same color as that suit I bought for Jeanne when she lived in California!" I'd taken a gamble when I bought the nubby purple sleeveless dress with the short-waist jacket and sent it to my daughter, knowing her taste in clothes was different than mine.

But Jeanne loved it and wore it often, still wore it, in fact, some eight-to-10 years later.

When I dipped my brush into the soft chocolate brown, I suddenly thought of the brown walnut vanity I'd purchased for $10 at an estate sale in Denver in 1969 and refinished right in the middle of our tiny apartment living room. When my second daughter Julia, was in sixth grade I'd moved the vanity with the huge round mirror into her room as a special surprise. She loved it, took very good care of it, took it with her to college and has since passed it on to her daughter Hailey, age 7.

The next color was bright Wisconsin Badger red. Boy, if that didn't remind me of Michael, my third child. Michael had not only graduated from the University of Wisconsin, where the school color is red, red and more red, but he also wore the red band uniform as a member of the UW marching band for five years. Since 1998 Michael has worked full time as the assistant director for the University of Wisconsin bands, so he's still into "red" and football Saturdays, post-season bowl games and Badger red are the stuff of wonderful memories for both of us.

Next came a double-wide bright yellow center stripe, the same yellow in Arizona State's school colors where my youngest child, Andrew, was a junior. The yellow also reminded me of the scorching Arizona sun. The day I said goodbye to Andrew his freshman year, that yellow sun beat down a temperature of 106 degrees and made it easier to say goodbye and jump in the air-conditioned car to head home.

The technicolor memories of each of my children as I painted that picnic table with 20 different colors helped make that one of my most memorable Mother's Days ever ... memories that will live in my mind, my heart and on my deck forever.

(Lorenz is a mother of four, who, after 30 years of parenting, is now an empty nester who spends most of her time writing and giving speeches.)