Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day was a meaningful holiday in my family.  We had two grandmothers as well as a mother to celebrate and Mom was inclusive even though the day was really hers.

It was always a soft pretty day (as I remember it).  The air was fresh and warm, it was a Sunday – a day without responsibilities – and it usually ended with small gifts in pastel wrappings.  Mom also honored her mother and mother-in-law by making sure they had corsages to wear, bought at a country flower shop right on our own street.

The last few years, I’ve hosted Mother’s Day brunch at my house for my mother and sister.  Two years ago, I was able to add my daughter to the list of mothers in attendance which was a happy thrill.  My table included festive Mimosa’s with champagne and raspberries, buttery croissants, and then a few pink and yellow gifts reminiscent of those I watched my mother and grandmothers open from our living room floor long ago.  At my house, it was more often that we crowded together on my sofa, something that isn’t recommended during a pandemic.

Mother’s Day is ever-evolving and many friends whose mothers are no longer here, tell me that they celebrate their mothers just the same – a holiday of the heart that we will all hold close one day.

No one can dispute that this Mother’s Day is very different.  No Mimosa’s, no pastel gifts.  But there are plenty of cards and I’ve sent several.  I will bring my mother a flowering plant today but I will drop it off on her front porch and hope that we can chat from afar for a few minutes.  Keeping my distance is also a gift, maybe the best one I can give to her.

A word about the image above.  I don’t have a source but I love the look of the extremely young mother and her flowery bonnet.  Her love for her baby is written on her face.  Happy Mother’s Day to all…