It's Mothers Day here in North America, and I'll be seeing my mom later today. Her request was to come over and watch a movie and have some pizza. She likes our television set, and wants to avoid the crowds at the restaurants that will no doubt be present today. Hey, it's her day, I'm more than happy to oblige.
The stuff I do remember seems nearly infinite. There was the night, with a pained expression on her face, that I made her explain the truth about Santa Claus. Or when, after my father had crumpled-up one of my drawings, mom came in to the bedroom with an iron, to smooth-out the creases in the paper. Or how, after a long night's arguing against her thick-headed teenage son, and things had calmed down, she began to cry and talk about how she missed her grandmother.
Sally isn't a perfect person. She's done a few things that, even through adult eyes, I look back and think, 'Yeah, she kinda messed that up.' But then mothers are human, so of course there is to be no perfection. They are women who are doing the best they know with the future of humanity and, often times these days, doing it alone. It is my opinion that women are probably stronger than men.
Just the other day, mom and met for lunch and had a serious talk. It was my suggestion. I needed some input on a rather dicey family matter (nothing to do with her). She was kind, empathetic, but also straightforward and didn't mince words. She was my mother. Even now, at age 36, I am learning from her. It would seem to be a near universal truth that, while some may no longer have their mothers, there is likely never to be a time when we don't need our mothers.