A Mom's Easter morning musing

I got up early on Easter morning, early for a Sunday that is.  I needed to iron my daughter's Easter dress and put together her Easter basket.  I really didn't mind.  In fact, I enjoyed it.  The house was peaceful and quiet and I felt unhurried to get my tasks done.  I got to savor doing special things for my girl.  My mind wandered to my own Mom and the times I saw her up late sewing or ironing or doing laundry for us.  She worked full-time and did everything related to caring for us, for as long as I was living at home, I think.  I wonder how many things she did that I never even noticed, let alone thanked her for doing.  I am sure there are thousands.  I don't think I was a particularly unappreciative child.  I was probably pretty normal (although I won't put that out for a vote from family...). I just didn't notice and I just didn't think much about it.  I don't expect my daughter, Emma, will notice either.  I think a lot of the things I do just come with the territory of being a Mom, and that is fine with me.  At this point in my life, I am so blessed that I am a Mom, and I am glad to do things to care for Emma and make special memories for her and with her. She probably won't really understand until she is a mother herself. As I pondered all this, my thoughts turned to His Mom.  She was so young and endured so much, watching His life and ministry unfold.  I wonder if she learned early to hold Him loosely, but how could she.  He was her son, her flesh and blood.  I wonder if she could even imagine Easter morning when she was in the midst of Good Friday.  Makes any of my sacrifices pale in comparison.