Mother's Day

When I realized that Sunday will be Mother's Day, it was like a punch in the stomach. Our first Mother's Day without our momma. The first time I haven't tried to choose just the right card for the woman who brought me into this world, the woman who made sure I stayed on the right side of the law, the woman who devoted her entire life to the happiness of her family, packing her own dreams away like little treasures in a box that she would stow away on the top shelf of her closet -- not forgotten but no longer part of her life either. And there she is, surrounded by what Dad would call "the offspring," all of us who were the beneficiaries of her legacy of love and caring and sacrifice.

My guess is that she thought it was worthwhile, that she rarely looked back and, if she did, she hid from us any regrets she might have had. One thing our momma was was realistic -- practical. Daddy was the designated dreamer, the one who was restless and searching. Momma just got about the business of living, of taking each day as it came and making the best of it, of rising to the occasion, no matter what it was.

It goes without saying that she cannot be replaced. We still have our mother in our hearts and in our genes. It's up to each one of us to prove that her faith in us was not misplaced nor foolish. She still talks to me in my most inner voice, and I can still see her determination and kindness everywhere I look. She still challenges me to nurture my better nature, to trust in the future. What better gift could anyone give?

Happy Mother's Day, Momma. I love you still. I hope at times I made you proud, even though I was an "apostrophe child," an unplanned offspring who needed you. You always made me proud, but sometimes it was hard to live up to your unspoken expectations. I'll keep trying.