Mother’s Day

Reading Time: 2 minutes

It was the night before, tired from putting grout into the tiny little crevices we had created in the tile of Silent Bob’s Steak ‘n Shake bathroom, I lay in the big purple bed.

I loved the sounds filtering in from the other room, the sounds of two sons, laughing and talking. The deployed son, home from Iraq less than 48 hours was speaking with his middle brother. It had been 10 months since we were face to face, bodies in the same room, and despite having missed Thanksgiving and Christmas, and son birthdays, here we were, under one roof. And it was my day tomorrow. Mother’s day.

I heard them leave with talk of asteroids and the best sky being down at the lake, on the little dock. And having assembled the various pieces of photography equipment that each of us had, they were armed for spectacular photos.

Silently, I closed my eyes and thought of the talents of each of these sons. John, the pragmatic, better at science than his scientist mom, his long fingers and steady hands able to carry out the details and recipes of an agile mind. Josh, more stoic than I care to c