You had to anticipate this one. It would be nice to say I’m above it, but no. Thankfully I don’t watch alot of TV, so haven’t been deluged with visions of tender moments, but have rapidly changed the channel or shut the TV off altogether for the commercial where the Mom goes through all the cards her daughter made for her since childhood. I haven’t seen past the second card written in crayon, I don’t think.
That said, I may avoid all things leading up to Mother’s Day, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to recognize it, or have it recognized. To pretend it isn’t a meaningful day is to deny that she was, to deny that Brad and I created her, to deny everything she was to us. Everything she is.
Brad and I are headed to Italy Monday May 3rd through Tuesday the 11th, taking advantage of the ‘go standby for free’ deal we have for 6 more weeks as part of his severance from Delta. If we must breathe and eat and otherwise exist on Mother’s Day, might as well be there. Apparently we’re getting there just in time for it to be cloudy and rainy indefinitely, but whatever. We’ll spend 4 days in Sorrento to explore Naples, Capri, Amalfi, etc. then head to Florence for a night to dine at a sentimental restaurant (and probably hit a similarly sentimental chocolate shoppe), then back to Rome on the 9th to sit in front of the Pantheon, sip a cafe latte in the rain, and think, “I don’t have Anna, but I’m here.” I don’t think Rome or Italy in general holds as much meaning for Brad, so I don’t say ‘We’. Wonder where we’ll be on Father’s Day - Scotland for golf? His brother’s cabin? Whatever he wants when the time comes.
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