I was out running a few errands today. Stopped in my local grocery to get a few items for tonight’s dinner. At checkout, the bagger handed me and my roommate each a yellow carnation, and wished us a Happy Mother’s Day. That felt so good.
Unfortunately, it came at the end of two hours of errands. As I’ve noted before, driving for any significant period of time tends to trigger my MPS (myofascial pain syndrome). Yeah, it’s flaring. Back pain is not fun.
For those of you who don’t know, I do have children. I didn’t have the joy of carrying them in my womb, but they are no less my children for it. Some of them carry my DNA, some do not. I am not their mother. Am I still their father? On this day when we honor mothers, and motherhood, this day created by the greeting card industry for profit, I am no less contemplative of what it means to be a mother. Is it simply the act of carrying a child in your womb? Is that what makes someone a mother? Continue reading