So there's the pretty little greeting card version of Mother's day. There's the restaurant brunch version of Mother's day. You have the holy church sermon honoring Mom version. There's the good old Lifetime TV special movie version.
And then somewhere along the line, it gets real.
I've been watching it unfold today from my fever addled perspective.
I see a lot of different versions that don't look anything like those first ones.
There's the mom's that are fed up and disappointed with good kids that aren't good enough. There's the ones looking for something lost or something that never was. There's the ones lost in loss, the death of their own mom.
At my dinner table tonight it unfolded differently.
Right in the middle, Little Miss pushed her plate aside and put her head down on the table. In a tiny little voice we hear, "What if I want to send my other mom, my first mom a gift? What if I want to give her flowers? I love my first mom."
It carried over. Mr. Monkey began, "You're not my mom, you're Miss Jen. Jessica mom is my mom. I want her back. I love her."
Not necessarily greeting card material here, but mine just the same.