The morning birdsong is there whether we listen or not. It’s there whether we like it or not. And unless something fundamental happens overnight, it will be there tomorrow. Much like the love of a parent to a child. Most of the time.
I have an imbalance in my relationship with my mum. She thinks we have the traditional relationship; I know we have one of tolerance. I tolerate the time I need to spend with her to make her feel that we have the traditional relationship. The alternative is not worth thinking about.
On this Mothering Sunday (here in the UK), I send out good wishes to those for whom today is not quite the happy day we sometimes feel we should be feeling. Good wishes go to those who cannot see their mums, those who cannot see their children, those who were never called mum, those who held the role for too short a time, those who were dad but performed like mum and dad, and those who mothered and were mother figures but who never quite had that recognised.
Life does not come in neat parcels, it is complex. But what we can do is hold ourselves firmly and say “it’s good enough”. Now, two of my children are in different countries and one is at work, and they know this is not a day I personally recognise - I expect them to adore me every day of the year! So, it’s probably time for a cuppa and something involving bacon…and I have no witnesses to know how many rolls that means. That is more than good enough.
Happy Sunday to you Moodscopers.