The mixed Mother's Day

Mother's Day is a mixed thing for me. On the one hand, I'm proud to be mom to the fabulous Mr W ("you're the best mom I'll ever have, Mom", "Awww. Wait a minute."). I consider it my most important endeavor, no foolin'. He's with his dad today, so I won't see him until tomorrow. That's fine, I imagine his dad will have him make a card or something like that.

I had lunch with my former MIL on Friday, an outing that was long overdue. I easily get wracked with guilt if I don't keep up that relationship. She'll call me occasionally, but I'm usually the one to call and make plans, and that's more than OK. She's earned the privilege. She's been sick with this and that, so understandably hasn't felt up to going out (although I think she knows I'm happy to just go there for a visit, too). But she's on the mend, so we went and got some lunch. It was good to catch up.

And of course, I miss my mom. That's her in 1967 or so. It feels like an extra kick in the pants that I miss my sister as well today. But I give that stuff a chance to well up and then it recedes; it's part of being alive (and still here!). Starting a couple of days ago, when I've been by myself and thinking about my mom, I've felt compelled to call out, "Ma!" "Ma!" And then I say something like, "I miss you and I love you". Not in a sad or questioning kind of way, but more like I want to tell her something. Funny.