A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials, heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine, desert us when troubles thicken around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavour by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.
- Washington Irving

Mother’s Day, 24 hours so fraught with love, anger, regret, humor, sadness and joy that it’s not surprising so many of us avoid the day in fear of somehow getting it wrong. For most it’s personal, a time to bridge the differences that divide us mother from child, to reflect on mistakes made, of things not said, expectations met and not met. Others dwell in sadness or joyful memory at mothers no longer here to share such regrets. For a few, Mother’s Day is a time for reflection on the meaning of motherhood in general. Some prefer to send a card and avoid the agony altogether. And for an increasing number, Mother’s Day is political, an opportunity to empower women by remembering the original intent of the day, an urgent message of peace from the heart of a mother in time of war.

However, for most of us, Mother’s Day is a time to reflect on those forgotten moments that so easily slip our memory as we hurry through life. For me, the sweetest were the simplest…
Sitting in the warm summer grass as my mother patiently taught me to tie my sneakers, over and over again repeating the movements of fingers and lace until I had that wonderful moment of recognition.
Listening to the reassuring calm of her voice as she read and reread my favorite stories and I trailed off reluctantly to sleep.
The warmth of my mother’s hand in mine as we walked in the chilly fall air, silent, only the sound of stones crunching beneath our feet, feeling as safe then as I will ever feel again…

The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness – Honore de Balzac
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