The First Real Mother’s Day?

Is it my imagination, or are there many more advertisements for Mother’s Day this year? They seem to be everywhere. Actually, I suppose they’re just more remarkable since my mother died. Suddenly, I am truly conscious of Mother’s Day, this man-made celebration of one of the most important people in our lives and I realise that, even when we took her flowers by the armful, treated her to lunch, tea or dinner here and there, wrote her verse in cards designed to make her feel good, there was still a fundamental failure to appreciate her for who she was and how much she really meant to us. Sad that it takes death to fully awaken the appreciation and yet I know she’s there, watching me dwell on her, aware of my acknowledgement of her contribution to my life.