A Lovely Day

Sunday was Mother's Day here in the U.S. It's not a big deal to me anymore, but let me explain why.

When FOMC and I divorced in 1981, he got custody of the children. He played a few tricks to get sole custody, and he worked very hard over the next several years to turn my children against me. Obviously, he was unsuccessful.

<DISCLAIMER ON>
These statements are totally my opinion. They do not reflect the opinions of my children or their father. But they are my opinions, so I'm going to express them here, on my blog. Got it? It's my side of a multi-sided story.
<DISCLAIMER OFF>

From the time of my move to Washington, DC, until the time I regained custody of my younger son—a period of about seven years—I did not receive any acknowledgement on Mother's Day.

Not a card. Not a phone call. Nothing.

It was painful beyond belief, beyond words. Incredibly, horribly painful.

And, to make matters worse, during most of this time I was married to a man who said, "You're not my mother; There's no need for me to do anything to acknowledge Mother's Day for you."

Rub salt into the wound, why don't you?

I feel FOMC's actions were egregious. And let's be clear that he had remarried by this time and you can be damned sure my boys recognized their stepmother on Mother's Day. And she implicitly condoned FOMC's actions, so she's partially responsible.

(And you can also be damned sure that when the boys were with me during the summers, when Father's Day occurs, they bought and mailed cards for their father, and called him on the day.)

Don't I do martyr very well?!

Anyway, my heart slowly became inured to the pain, and it no longer matters. I have good relationships with both my sons. My younger son and I are in communication on an almost daily basis. My older son and I follow each other on Facebook and are aware of what's going on with each other. If something important comes up, we e-mail or talk on the phone. I have upstanding sons, of whom I'm very proud.

I feel like every day in my life is Mother's Day. That's how thoughtful my sons are towards me.

When I woke up Sunday morning, the Jazzman looked over at me and said, "Happy Mother's Day." I smiled and said "thank you." Then he proceeded to make the rest of the day about me. We had a lovely breakfast where I made perfect over-easy eggs, which he pronounced better than any restaurant eggs. In the afternoon we went to Fellows Riverside Gardens, where we wandered and roamed, admiring the gorgeous spring flowers and people-watching. We went out to dinner—my choice of restaurant. We went home and watched the Obama "60 Minutes" interview.

We had a lovely relaxing day, engineered by him with the sole purpose of honoring my devotion to my children (and grandchildren).

(I received text messages from one son and both a hilarious e-card and a Hallmark hard-card from the other. Loving messages from both.)

I am a lucky woman. I have a good life.