Just Another Mother's Day

“Happy Mother’s Day,” said the Avis car rental person as we returned our rental car at 6 AM this morning in Tucson.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” said the security screening guy in the airport.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” said the America West woman who took my boarding pass.

But wait a minute, I am not the mother of any of these people. Goodness gracious, I don’t even know them, I thought to myself. Then I started to wonder why it wasn’t my family who were saying those three words.

There were lots of excuses. It was really Dan’s graduation weekend, a once in a lifetime experience that must trump Mother’s Day, which occurs every year. We were spending most of the day in airports and on airplanes, not exactly the right scene for flowers, cards, and presents. But I still allowed myself to start down that slippery slope of self-pity. Where had I failed as a mother that my children and my husband were just ignoring my day?

I’m glad to say that I’ve now heard those 3 magical words from all those who are important to me (including my mother-in-law) and my husband is cooking dinner as I write this. All’s well that ends well...