Perhaps it comes as no surprise, then, that the best Mother's Day I have ever experienced was the first one after Matthew was born. I don't even remember a lot of what we did that day (Matthew was only two months old and I don't remember much of those days!), other than going out for a mother's day brunch with some friends who'd also just had a baby. I mostly just remember the euphoria, the feeling that at last the worst was behind me.
This year, Mother's Day will start with Matthew's 8 a.m. hockey game (can you tell that a man was behind the scheduling of this one??)...so no breakfast in bed for me this year. Hockey will be followed by church and Matthew's usual afternoon music class. So there's not much different about this day's activities from any other Sunday. The big difference from all of those horrible years past, though, is the way that the words impact me - it's the feeling I never get used to: the warmth that goes along with being told by my beloved child that he loves me and that I'm the best mom in the world, and being given the picture that he's been hiding under the couch for the past month in anticipation of today. Though I can't forget how hard previous mothers' days have been, perhaps because I remember how painful those days were, "Happy Mother's Day, Mom" are now, to me, the sweetest words on earth.