Tomorrow will be the 8th Mother’s Day (in a row) that I have spent with only one of my children. In May 2006, my son had his first Spring finals the week after Mother’s Day, so instead of spending the day with me, he was holed-up in his Ole Miss dorm room studying. I shared that with a lady today at the knitting class I’m taking when she asked what my kids and I would be doing tomorrow. Her shocked, sympathetic look told me her children must either still live at home or at least close enough to spend the day with her. I explained that his absence doesn’t bother me. I know it isn’t by choice that he spends Mother’s Day in a different city. Of course, I’d love to spend Mother’s Day with both of my children (heck, I’d love to spend every day with them!), but the truth of the matter is that Mother’s Day, as special as it is, is just the one day we pause to recognize and honor mothers. Instead of focusing on what my children do on that day, I prefer to think of what my son and daughter do throughout the year. For example, they talk to me regularly. My son calls just to chat, to share with me what is going on in his life and to ask what’s going on in mine. And he is genuinely interested (trust me, he’s not a good actor and never has been, so I’d know if he was faking). He remembers things I’ve mentioned and brings them up again later, he remembers the names of coworkers and friends. My daughter is living with me during her senior year in college (after having lived in a house with friends the past couple of years), and she and I have wonderful discussions on an almost-daily basis. They also show an interest in what I’m doing and in what’s important to me. They tease me about some things, of course, but they ask about my classes, this blog, and other things that I value. They don’t share many of my interests — I’m a writer, an artisan who is interested in minimalism, spirituality, etc. while they are focused on their social life, classes and/or new career, and other things that make up a young adult’s life. But they are not self-absorbed, and their interest in what is important to me warms my heart. My son and daughter do many other things, some small and some not-so-small, throughout the year. Tomorrow, though, my daughter will be with me. I’m fairly certain that she will bring me breakfast in bed; she’s never missed a year yet. We’ll have a nice day together, and I will enjoy her company, as I always do. Whatever Mother’s Day means to you — as a daughter, a mom, a step-mom, a 2nd mom — I hope tomorrow is a very special day for you. Happy Mother’s Day!