Mother’s Day. One of those holidays that I have never really enjoyed. I have always wondered why we need to stop and celebrate someone for one day- when we should be celebrating each other all the time with how we treat each other and the kindness we show. I am sure it is a favorite for many- I distinctly remember various years from my childhood….always a dressed up occasion. Church and then a brunch somewhere. Cards and flowers…the smell of my mom’s perfume as she gushed over the handmade gifts. And then a quiet afternoon, full of whatever needed to get done that day before heading back into the work week ahead. And years in college, where Mom was a focus for the entire weekend- One fraternity in particular, had a big sign in front of their house which read, “Welcome all you mothers!” But, I remember one year in particular, just after my husband of 25 years and I had started living together. My father invited us to a big “Mother’s Day Brunch” across town. As many of you know, I have never been able to manage time very well- read NEVER. For the 45 minute drive, we managed to leave home 15 minutes before we should have been at brunch. This was well before cell phones, so by the time we reached the restaurant, brunch was over, and my father was LIVID. LIVID. His eyes glowed and his speech was slow and between clinched teeth. My brother and sister looked at me in silence and fear, wide-eyed, begging me not to open my mouth and make it worse. My mother had resigned herself to a day of hearing my father complain about my lack of responsibility and we sat in silence and ate our food while everyone at the table glared at us over the empty plates and glasses. Even though I had brought this wrath on myself, that day I thought I would never go to another Mother’s Day Brunch again. And I never have.
My Sundays are my favorite days of the week. Some days I hear my family padding around the house all day in their jammies….and if it’s warm, the doors are open and the fresh air comes in. I am happy to have the doors open whenever I want- I never have to hear “Close the door! We aren’t air conditioning the neighborhood!!” Something I heard a lot growing up….Sometimes there’s music- and someone is always cooking something. At our home in the U.S., the doors open and my younger son would literally ride his scooter or skate board or skates right through the house….And we’d yell, “Don’t slam the door!” and then laugh, because it was something my grandmother used to say at her house….right after we’d run through her screen door and keep running, as it swung shut with a loud bang. Wherever we are in the world, it is a fun, relaxed day and I love it.
So, as we come to pass through another Mother’s Day, I reflect on what I have and what I am thankful for…being present and enjoying my life, my husband, my boys and the outdoors. Am I special?? Hell, yeah! Just as special as all the other moms who have been thrown up on or have made that midnight trip to the emergency room. Or baked cupcakes for her 16 year old’s birthday or watched any of her kids accomplish their heart’s desires. My mom made my prom dress and Halloween costumes. She drove me everywhere and picked me up, too. She listened to me cry over boyfriends and everything else during my teenage years and she flew to Boston from D.C. to be with me the night my dog died. I bet she’d do just about anything, if I needed her to.
As I sit outside on this beautiful day…I am listening to a house full of happy and loud boys….the blender is blending something to go into the oven, birthday cupcakes are cooling and life is good. The only thing that is missing is a screen door swinging shut with a loud bang. Someday. 
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