I’ve not ever been one to observe negative anniversaries or other holidays, so it’s unusual for me to be a little sad on Mother’s Day.

I had dinner with my mother’s widower a year to the day after she died because he called and asked me, and he was still so totaled I couldn’t really say no.  But as we sat at the Oxford Red Lobster, he said he wanted to do it every year, and I immediately said I didn’t think that was a good idea.  I think it hurt his feelings.  I felt bad about that for a while.

Mom’s been gone eleven years now.  I miss her mostly in unexpected whispers, but once in a while she clocks me.  She clocked me this morning when I was putting up this photo on my Facebook profile.  I didn’t expect that to be tearful, and then it was.

I have a childhood friend I haven’t seen in person in more than 30 years, but with whom I have a pleasant and satisfying relationship of correspondence.  Her mother is in heaven now too.  Days like today, she and I exchange texts and suppose that our moms must be having coffee together.

Happy Mother’s Day.  Hug your mom every chance you get.