In front and in back of me, every shopping cart displayed some sign of motherly affection. One cart held a fluffy pink teddy bear, and every person shopping either had a card in their hand or one in their basket.
I watched a woman debating over which plant to buy for her mother. She was turning each one over to read the price on the bottom. Finally she picked a small, green, non-flowering plant, and I wanted to tell her to put it back and take the pretty one. "You are lucky to have a mother," I wanted to say. "Spoil her as long as you can."
My own mother died in February, and I am still getting over it. Below is a poem I wrote about our weekly phone conversations, and wouldn't you just know it?--Mother's Day always falls on a Sunday.