For the past few days, I’ve been thinking about my mom. I’ve been thinking about what I should tell the world about her, but everything that I was to say doesn’t even begin to describe how wonderful my mom is.
Peter and I decided not to drive home this weekend for Mother’s Day because it’s our first weekend in Green Bay since the first weekend of February. We have a lot of things to re-arrange and move before the end of May when Peter will be fully moved into
my our apartment. Our moms understood, told us that we needed a weekend to relax and get things organized after such a hectic few months. They weren’t upset or sad.
I was relieved when my mom understood that I wasn’t coming home.
But now, when I woke up this morning, I’m sad that I’m not at home with my mom on Mother’s Day.
Instead of writing and deleting and writing and deleting this morning, I decided to go back and read the blog posts that I’ve written for my mom on past Mother’s Days. I’m happy to say that every word that I typed still rings true today.
Missing my mom while I was in Ecuador
Last year’s Mother’s Day
Happy Mother’s Day to all of the mothers out there, but especially to mine.