Finding Two Reasons to Celebrate

Six years ago Mother's Day fell on my father's birthday, as it does occasionally. But my father had died six months earlier, which had not happened before, and I was dreading the day. I was not a mother but I was ready to be, and then I miscarried, two days before Mother's Day. But that wasn't enough, our dear friends had asked Jack and I to be the Godparents to their wonderful son, we were honored and overwhelmed, and the baptism was to be on Mother's Day. So on my father's 62nd birthday, which he was not with us to celebrate, two days after miscarrying in my first pregnancy, I was to hold the infant son of one of my best friend's in a church and pledge to help raise him as a good Catholic, on Mother's Day.

Surprisingly being with people I love and holding a new baby proved to be exactly what I needed on what had promised to be a truly horrible day, and it wasn't.

The next year I spent Mother's Day at a Cubs game, five months pregnant, feet up and happy. Things had improved, as often they do. And each year I rejoice just a little bit more, ever grateful to have not one but two wonderful reasons to celebrate. While I'm thankful for the little people who made me a mom I also remember the many who have mothered me, the list is long, and I appreciate each and every person who taught me bits and pieces of all that I need to know: removing band aids quickly is really best, singing "I Eat My Peas With Honey" while eating peas really does make them taste better, written correspondence does matter, bodily functions are funny, laughing is important, loving is best, and singing is a great way to start the day.

Happy mother's day to all who mother, and to those who listen to us sing.