Last year turned out to be a horrible Mother’s Day. My younger son, who was suffering from acute anxiety, and I argued vehemently. He hurt my feelings, causing me to run away from home (via the Pilot) and sit at a local park for hours contemplating my role in the parenting universe. It wasn’t pretty.
Fortunately, my older son pulled me out of my funk and made me feel special. He saved the day for me, and I’m eternally grateful.
Apparently, last year was just an aberration . . . I hope! This past Mother’s Day—my 20th—was simply wonderful. We all enjoyed watching “Marvel’s The Avengers,” we ate lunch at Buffalo Wild Wings (a favorite of the guys), and we rooted Kim on to a well-deserved victory on “Survivor.”
As always, the boys made me cards. I laughed at my older son’s, but I could barely read the one from my younger son, because my eyes were filled with tears. This is what he wrote:
“I know this last year has been rough for the two of us, and there were many times where you could have given up on me. However, you kept pushing me and loving me, and I am so grateful to have a mom like you. Thank you for the wonderful things you have done for me. I love you!”
Hear that squishy sound? That’s my heart melting.