Mothering

Mothering is life's most precious act.  There is no greater sacrifice and no greater joy.

My own mother was extraordinary.  She was the mother all the other kids thought was cool.  She was permissive and friendly--an adventurous and wonderful cook.  She was not judgmental and since she was the minister's wife, other parents overlooked her liberal attitude--or they presumed otherwise and had no idea.  I am grateful that she was my mother every single day.

When in France, I encountered an exhibit of paintings in Avignon's Musée du Petit Palais.  The paintings were from the Gothic to Renaissance periods (12th to 15th centuries).  These particular paintings have religious significance; however, more important to me on Mother's Day is the poignancy reflected in the faces of these women.  It's the joy of motherhood.

My children give me immeasurable pleasure.  Nothing else I have done in my life equals in value the experience of mothering my three sons--all of them charming, funny, creative, loving and bright.  I could not be more thankful.    

Sandro Botticelli