I have always disliked Mother's Day. I suppose I was excited back in grade school when I made something special for my mother and grandmother. I saved a card I made for Grandma Ball that stated she was the "Greatest Grandmoth of All". Funny I didn't notice the typo then but now it is glaring.....
I do remember bringing a little Petunia home from church for my mother. I was pretty proud of that little drooping flower. Hope it made her smile.
Actually I dreaded Mother's Day long before my mother passed away. It seemed to happen every year that some well-meaning lady at our church would call my mother and let her know that she had invited me to the Mother Daughter Banquet and that I had told her that I didn't want to go. It made me sad to go with someone else's mother. I wanted my mother to be able to take me places. I didn't want to go with any other woman no matter how well-intentioned she might be. And then of course, my mom would apologize for me and accept the invitation and then tell me what time my "new mom" would be picking me up. Truthfully I don't think my mother realized how sad it made me. I think she was thinking like an adult and didn't want to hurt any one's feelings. Sometimes it would be a Sunday School teacher that had never married and had no children. Sometimes it would be a woman that had no daughters only sons. It didn't matter to me. I didn't want to go.
But I did go. And I was polite. And I was sad.
This week in books 5/26/17
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