It’s Time for Mother’s Day

Mom’s always been there throughout the years. No matter the circumstance.
Always giving of herself. Every day.

And I’m supposed to thank her in a single day? That’s a tall order. Not going to happen. But it’s a great starting point.
I’m going to give her what she’s always given me. And my three brothers.


I’ll go for a walk with her. Around the block. Or at the neighborhood garage sale. Or both.

I’ll enjoy lunch with her in the backyard with a grand view of her garden.

Then I’ll help her with her garden. I’d do it for her, but she loves pulling the weeds and rearranging the mulch. I’ll pick up the heavy stuff, collect the weeds, bring her lemonade, roll up the hose and offer her my hand when it’s time to stand up again. Her knees aren’t what they used to be.
Mother's Day
She worked. A lot. We didn’t see a lot of her as we were growing up. She picked up extra shifts. Worked weekends. Worked a second job.

But we were well fed. Didn’t need or want anything. Wore new clothes. Her four boys all had cars by the time we were 16. I don’t remember paying insurance once until after college. That’s what she got for her 60-80 hours a week.

She’s retired now. So all she has is time. To enjoy her sons. I’ll give her some more of mine. And not just on May 8. I’ll make an effort to make May 9 Mother’s Day too. And May 10. And the other 362 days of the year.

That’s the best Mother’s Day gift I can give her.

Well, that and that Sunday prime rib dinner at her favorite restaurant she’s dropped a hint or 12 about.

Time. And prime rib. A Happy Mother’s Day indeed.
— PJ Butland