(no subject)
Happy Mother's Day.
A mom is someone that everyone has. How your relationship with your mother (or father, for that matter) develops once you've squeaked your way into this cold cruel world just as you were getting comfortable in your underwater oasis can take many turns. I was lucky to have a mom that made sure I was never hungry, never unloved, never without a roof over my head. My father, not so much, but this is not the day for that. I literally lost my world of all my prior decades when I lost Mom. I still feel great pains of loss at seemingly inappropriate times. With spring finally putting on a show here, lots of very early memories, sparked by sights, sounds and especially scents take me instantly back to my youngest days, where I didn't have the cares and worries I have as an increasingly broken, middle-aged man. No, these little moments are tiny vignettes of days of play, of sunshine, of meals made on shoestring budgets with the utmost of care, of literally being the man of the house starting at age 5, of exploring, of learning about the world and its good and bad, of falls and spills and bicycle accidents and the best medical care ever delivered while sitting on the edge of the bathtub, of happiness, of trust, and of love. Just when I think time is being cruel and robs me of something, the ol' memory banks get triggered and I am back in my fondest of places.
I sincerely wish everyone's Mother's Day could be like this.
A mom is someone that everyone has. How your relationship with your mother (or father, for that matter) develops once you've squeaked your way into this cold cruel world just as you were getting comfortable in your underwater oasis can take many turns. I was lucky to have a mom that made sure I was never hungry, never unloved, never without a roof over my head. My father, not so much, but this is not the day for that. I literally lost my world of all my prior decades when I lost Mom. I still feel great pains of loss at seemingly inappropriate times. With spring finally putting on a show here, lots of very early memories, sparked by sights, sounds and especially scents take me instantly back to my youngest days, where I didn't have the cares and worries I have as an increasingly broken, middle-aged man. No, these little moments are tiny vignettes of days of play, of sunshine, of meals made on shoestring budgets with the utmost of care, of literally being the man of the house starting at age 5, of exploring, of learning about the world and its good and bad, of falls and spills and bicycle accidents and the best medical care ever delivered while sitting on the edge of the bathtub, of happiness, of trust, and of love. Just when I think time is being cruel and robs me of something, the ol' memory banks get triggered and I am back in my fondest of places.
I sincerely wish everyone's Mother's Day could be like this.