Sunday is Mother’s Day. We’ll be visiting my mother. At 84, she’s hanging in there, and every day with her is a gift. She grew up  in a tiny town in the Florida Panhandle and married a Dutch sailor, my father. Long story short, they packed up the car with my brother and sister, then toddlers, and moved to New England just before I was born. Four more kids ensued, and while my father died in 1990, my mother continues to live on our family homestead on the western edge of the Quabbin Reservoir in rural Massachusetts. In addition to the seven of us, she has 13 grandchildren and 12 great-grandchildren (three are mine!), with another due this summer.

My mother was a teacher, a quilter, a dressmaker, a gardener and an avid reader. She struggles to do some of her favorite things these days, but she loves watching birds at her feeders, the Red Sox and a good laugh. Me? I love our calls and visits, and hope there are many more to come…but each one is precious in this sunset of her long, good life.

Happy Mother’s Day!