Mother's Day

Mother's Day was good. It isn't my favorite holiday. It is a little contrived and some of the sentiment is pretty forced, but it was a good day here in my world.

I think the best thing about Mother's Day is that little people really get into it and really seem to love an opportunity to express their sweet, pure love for their mothers, and their grandmothers too. In our family we have never made a big deal about Mothers Day or Fathers Day. We know how we feel about each other. This morning we went to breakfast with my daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren. I got cards and a beautiful potted lily. The cards were the best. My granddaughter, who has recently learned to read and write, loves having the ability to express herself in writing, in her own words. She wrote on my handmade card, "for all the time youve bin aliv, here is a speshle secret. I love you. Happy Mothers Day to Terry from Sofia."  The sweetness of that—what can I say? My son and daughter both posted pictures on Facebook and wished me a happy Mothers Day. That was plenty.

Here are my girls—daughter Emily and granddaughter, Sofia, at breakfast this morning. I didn't take a picture of my guys this morning, but I have a son, Andy and grandson, Marco as well. Here they are are several weeks ago.

Marco adores his Uncle Andy, who makes silly faces for him.

While Mothers Day is a day to be thankful for these special-to-me people, I also remember my own mother, who I miss dearly, and I know it is a day that isn't so great for everyone. I can't help but think of those whose mothers weren't so loving, and those who are not mothers, by choice or fortune, and saddest of all, those mothers who have lost their children. This day must be an agony for them. I have friends in all these categories, and I know they are left out of the rosy Mothers Day schmalzy-ness, despite their nurturing, motherly spirits.

To be a mother is everything and nothing. Everything, in the way it changes you. Someone said being a mother (a parent) is like having your heart walking around outside your body. I have never heard anything that more accurately describes the sense of vulnerability and helplessness and connectedness of being a parent. Forever after, you are connected, for better or worse, to your child, feeling every hurt and every joy they experience. And, in a more prosaic way, parenthood is nothing—the inevitable biological imperative. It is what humans do and the way the species continues, not much different from worms and birds and fish and monkeys. But, as a human mother I can't help but think about the profound meanings and consequences and rewards and liabilities of motherhood.

Whether a mother or not, I hope you had a good day today, and I hope you have people to love, who love you in return. That's all that really counts.