With Much Appreciation

 It's a celebration of mother. Not unlike the celebration of the celebration of teacher that I experienced this past week. The conversation out in front of the school at the end of the day started something like this: "When they have a day of appreciation for your job, they're definitely not paying you enough." Not that we teachers didn't end up feeling appreciated by our principal. There were donuts one day, nachos on Tuesday, cookies another. We were awarded nice cards with little tchotchkes attached to remind us of the value she places on our work. 

But all that attention got me to thinking about Mother's Day. We set one day aside each year to give out flowers and cards and housewares to show our appreciation for the one who brought us into this world. 

Once a year. There's something a little off about that math. Each day on earth is a gift from mom to you. Why is it that we pick this one Sunday to be the day we show our appreciation for the gift of life? Some might argue that the appearance of Father's Day just a month later cheapens the moment just a little. 

Not that fathers don't deserve their own day in the sun. 

But mothers? How about those nine months of carrying you around while doing their daily chores, and then once you appeared she still ended up carrying you around only now it was in her arms, making those chores even more challenging. Yes, I believe that sending along a bunch of posies to the woman who picked you up and kept your life in order while hers became quantumly more challenging is the least we can do. 

The mother of my son continues, all these years after that initial spark of "hey, let's have a kid," devoted to the life she brought and nurtured through preschool and served as room mother and eventually PTA President once he landed in high school. She checks up on him. She wonders how he's doing. There's always a sense of relief when he gets home safe. 

Always. Even though his home is far away now. These are the ties that bind, to borrow a sentiment from Bruce Springsteen. Make some time to stare with wonder and awe at your mother, wherever she may be. What she has done is amazing. 

And always will be.