Mother’s Day has little meaning to me now. Since she died I think of mom probably every day. I think of her with love, admiration, respect and yes even humor. I can think of a lot of bad shit dad did and said to me. But Mom? Nah… Mom was super cool super sweet even when when wanted to beat the shit out of me. If she had I still would have loved her. The greatest punishment was when I did stupid painful things and saw how my actions and or words hurt mom. THAT HURT more than any slaps or beatings. As for Dad… I think of him with more love now than when he was alive. It’s a choice. Yes love is often a choice. Choosing to love someone and remember their good and damn the bad and painful. Forgiving. Empathizing. Learning to be a better person through all that. Mother’s Day. Father’s Day. Should be celebrated every day, inside us. In that place beyond our physical heart we have no better label for than… “heart”.