Mothering Day

This is an ancient holiday in Britain and in certain other cultures. I miss my own mother, gone now these four-and-a-half years. Internet accounts being what they are, 1-800-Flowers still prompts me to remember my Mom at Mother's Day, as if I needed their help. But the time for sending flowers has long since passed; now all I can do is remember her, and be grateful for our long, loving relationship.

I had a wonderful mother. She died on her own mother's birthday when she was 87. I was at her side and I spoke to her as she left this life and then I kissed her goodbye.

***


The renewal of life is all around us this springtime. Here is my youngest daughter. That's one of her coaches in the background. That's the ever-present Unknown Jogger in the way background.



This is Stow Lake as photographed by Julia this afternoon.



There were turtles and ducks and geese and fish. There were boaters and walkers, old people, young people, babies in strollers and an old, old man pushing his walker.



The kids were asking, "What do women do if they have no kids on Mother's Day?"



We encountered a rare sight, according to our resident pigeon expert, Dylan. It was a lakeside tree, where many pigeons felt comfortable enough to perch.



Circling the lake, we saw many blooming plants and many animals.



The baby Canadian Geese tore up grasses voraciously.



I snapped this Mother's Day shot of youngest three and their Mom. Happy Mother's Day, Connie!

-30-