Mother's Day

Yes, I know it was last week, but I've been really busy.

Anyways, 'Mother's Day'. If you remember at all a post I made about three months ago, you'll recall I talked about celebrating Valentine's Day without a girl. Well, Mother's Day has come and gone, and I spent mine without a mother.

For those of you who don't know, my mother is currently travelling in Italy, and she is on week four of six I'm pretty sure. I could be wrong, my mind has been so wraught with distress over the situation I don't know which side is up anymore.

My mother chose an interesting time to leave the country. She missed Mother's Day, which is the only day is our household besides July 22nd (that being her birthday) we show our respect to her and we make it count, because spreading 2 packets of strawberry jam over 365 pieces of bread is as hard as it sounds. She missed us making her a satisfactory breakfast which she could have made for herself a lot faster. She missed that terrible cup of coffee when we put two portions of coffee for one portion of water. She missed those fantastic presents that have no inspiration usually and are just picked from a list such as a set of giant orange porch chairs which she has used twice. (Although, to be fair, one year I bought her a rose bush to plant in the backyard to be creative, but I'm pretty sure it's smaller than when I bought it, and hasn't produced a single flower.) She missed that very special lunch that you always take your mother to, usually a very classy place like Swiss Chalet where you wait for a table for six and a half hours because every son in the world is taking their mother to Swiss Chalet. You cover the bill, and she pretends she is so appreciative, but she really doesn't care, because on any other day, Dad would cover the bill. She missed hanging with her children who would much rather be hanging with their friends playing golf but wouldn't dare say anything.

She missed a lot. I'd like to think she has her own little Mother's Day in Italy, although I'm not sure they have a Mother's Day. They don't need one. Every day is Mother's Day over there, just as it should be. A mother missing Mother's Day is strange, and similar to Wiarton Willy deciding to go to Guatemala on Groundhog Day.

To make up for this missed opportunity, she found another way to make up for it. Orginially, this trip was only meant to last one month, bringing her back here sometime next week. Conveniently, this was changed to six weeks, and conveniently, this causes her to not be home by the 26th, her "baby's" 19th birthday. Yes, that's right. I am turning 19 motherless. Bad things are bound to happen. If you expect to feel better by doing this, you are wrong Susan. I have decided that instead of moping around on my birthday being sad that my own mother doesn't feel it necessary to be around for it, I am going to use that energy to make my birthday that much more enjoyable. So there mom. Enjoy your gelato, enjoy your sauve-talking gentlemen and your sculptures of David. I'll find something better to do.


As I got off easy this year with not having to spend Mother's Day with my mother, I feel it necessary to do something for her to make up for it, if just a little bit. So I am writing a poem, if you can even call it that. Enjoy.


Mom, you make my world go round.
Mom, if I got lost, you'd have me found.

After sarcasm, and being ignored,
You respond, "I love you Son."

After laziness and disobedience,
You smile, "I love you still."

After a phone call in the middle of the night,
and a desperate "I love you" to smooth the situation,
You whisper, "I love you more, sleep tight"

Forced hugs, and awkward kisses.
Rolled eyes, and one-way conversations.
Through it all, you overcome what must be frustration.
You proclaim your affection on every occasion.
I feel it today, even from a different nation.
Oh mom, you really, really deserve this vacation.

I love you Mom.
I love you still.
I love you more, sleep tight.

Kiss kiss.