So, that's over.

When it came to Mother's Day this year, my plan to was ignore it.

I did not want David to give me a sentimental card or jewelry or whatever because no.  Just no.  My plan was to pretend the day wasn't happening.

It didn't quite work that way, what with so many lovely texts and e-mails blowing up my phone (it was just like a Ke$ha song, except not really) and also real cards that came in the mail.  Love.  And, although I did not allow myself to get on the computer, all of the bereaved mothers I've come to know were on my mind.

And of course, I had to call my own mom.  Because she's the greatest. 

Here is a picture of three generations of awesome, circa 1985.

In a nod to nineteenth-century England, I chose to wear white gloves.  Also, you can't really tell but my mom is wearing gray peep-toe pumps with bows on the toes.  She had a matching gray clutch.  Even as a four-year-old, I coveted those accessories.  We're all agreed that the perm was an unfortunate hairstyle, though.  Hey, the '80s were hard on everybody.

Anyway, David and I woke up early, lounged around in bed reading, and then decided since the weather was beautiful we should go play golf.  We'd practiced chipping and hitting balls into a net the day before, so we were ready to hit the links.


We go to this little par 3 course near my house and when it's not busy (and it wasn't), we play Best of Two.  This means that each of us hits two balls from the tee and then we pick up the crappy hit from out in the weeds or six feet in front of the tee, pretend it never happened, and go on to chip and putt the good hit.  Gives me some extra practice, and lowers my frustration level.  Also lowers the score, since you only have the count the good hit!  

Even so, we played 9 holes and my final score would have been awesome... if we'd played 18.  I was just satisfied that I was hitting fairly straight and I managed to make par a couple of times.  Winner at Best of Two Golf!

Well, David actually won, but that's not the point.  He practices and he's also ridiculously coordinated so I don't even consider him my competition.  He's in a different league.  The annoying jock league.

After golf, we decided the day called for homemade black bean veggie burgers and Hoegaarden.  So that was lunch.  Then David washed the cars while I sat on the deck reading a book.  (A Maisie Dobbs book, to be precise--love, love, love).

I had dreaded the day for so long, but once it started it wasn't so bad.  The dread of it was way worse than the reality.  I cried all though last week, but not so much yesterday.

So that day's over.  Now I've just got to get through the rest of my life without her.

Which will call for some pretty heavy distractions.  Considering yesterday's activities were pretty enjoyable, it looks like I've got a summer of golf and beer and books ahead of me. 

It's not a bad deal... unless you consider the alternative.  Which is precisely why I'm keeping myself busy.

Hope the day was as not sucky as possible for everyone reading this.  Maybe it was just what you wanted, maybe it was nothing like you expected.  Either way, you're on my mind and in my heart and I appreciate your thoughts and support.  It's been five months and it's still so hard.

So there was sadness, yes.

But there was also a nice 6 foot putt that dropped right in, and a glass in the freezer waiting for my beer, and barbecue sauce on top of a black blean burger, a conversation with my mom, and the absorbing adventures of Maisie Dobbs.

Trying to be grateful for what IS, in between longing for what isn't.