Charlotte Latvala: Mom Bucks different for empty nester

What should I expect for Mother’s Day this year? Is it even a holiday when the nest is empty?

Gone are the days of finger paint handprints and tissue paper flowers. I’ll never get another badly painted mug or stick figure drawing of a 10-foot-tall mom and 12-inch-high child holding hands. I haven’t seen a “World’s Best Mom” trophy in years.

I can’t expect a visit from the French waiters, i.e., the small people who looked like my children but had thin Magic Marker mustaches and dishtowels folded neatly over bent arms. The French waiters used to appear every Mother’s Day, dish up toast and cantaloupe slices, and drop strong hints about how a generous tip might improve service.

Of course, the ultimate gift in those days was a fat coupon book. My husband still has the “Dad Bucks” our son gave him one Father’s Day. “These cards will summon me to do your bidding,” the cover boldly (and I might add over-optimistically) proclaims. The back cover clearly states: “Dad Bucks never expire!” (We have not and will never question the legality of this guarantee.)

I’d welcome an updated version of the coupon book for Mother’s Day. Instead of “one back rub” or “no fighting with my sisters,” I’d prefer a stack of coupons good for:

· One offbeat text per day. Just so we know you’re alive. And still have the sense of humor that will keep you sane.

· A weekly phone call. Because as much as Mom loves a lengthy text exchange, it’s good to hear your voices again.

· Vacation plans that land you within two hours of us.

· News that you’re moving within two hours of us. (Well, we can dream.)

· A conversation where you utter the words “You know, you were right about…” It doesn’t matter what the “it” is; the important thing is that you acknowledge how much smarter we’ve gotten since you were in high school.

· A movie night where we binge everything I’ve been recommending for the past 20 years.

· Or, an announcement that you finally watched “All About Eve” and agree that it’s one of the best films of all time.

· A statement that next time you’re home, you’ll go through one box of a) high school memorabilia, b) six years’ worth of dance costumes, c) that bathroom drawer crammed full of discarded hair products, nail polish, and Hilary Duff CDs.

· A promise to never throw away the Harry Potter parody you and your best friend wrote in middle school.

· My invitation to your new Jane Austen or Dorothy Dunnett book club, where I’m an honorary member.

· Or (more realistically) a discussion of any book you’ve read in the last year.

· A handwritten note or drawing showing how much you love and value the World’s Best Mom. (Who has yet to be dethroned.)

On the other hand, I can always borrow some Dad Bucks and cash them in. They never expire, you know.

Charlotte is a columnist for The Times. You can reach her at charlottelatvala@gmail.com.

This article originally appeared on Beaver County Times: Latvala: Mom Bucks different for empty nester