My mom loathed Mother's Day.

It's all fakery, she said.

And of course she was right.

I called her almost every Sunday night for decades and later added Thursday nights in her latter years. God forgive if on a particular Sunday in May when I would offer up a weak "Happy Mother's Day." She would say something to the effect, "Oh don't give that shit."

So here I sit, my first Mother's Day without a mom, thinking I will not give her that shit.

I'll enjoy watching all the family's out on a day that should be everyday, praising wonderful mothers and bask in the fact that had a wonderful mom for all my years.

Peace unto Ukraine and peace and great moms unto all of you my brothers and sisters.

From blog reader Bertha from Bloomington, Indiana:

Dear Editor Jackson,

Please accept my profound condolences in the death of your Mother.

Loss of a parent is never easy. Some funds have been sent to assist in Praying Sister Mary Anne out of Purgatory. That is not done so much these days in Indiana but my information indicates it is customary elsewhere.

Your Mother and I send warm, positive benevolence toward your progress.

A couple of articles about Evil Gannett are enclosed for your review. I do not know why their stockholders put up their incompetence.

Double $27 is enclosed. You may allocate as you choose. I do not have any account with the outfit you are using and do not want one. My suggestion is that you share a lucky $2 with the Kid.

Keep the Faith and Pray for my Arthritis.

Sincerely,

Bertha (last name redacted).

 Nothing has happened.

Oh, sure, I get up for work and eat lunch and have dinner -- and a couple of drinks each evening.

But nothing out of the ordinary has hit me in the weeks I've let this blog lie.

That's a good thing.

There's was a period of about six months where there were professional and personal difficulties that drove my life. Now I celebrate this normalcy, although as a journalist I understand unpleasantness is a general way of life.

My understanding of the Buddha is he came to believe that life is nothing more than tragedies and difficulty throughout and we can't change that. What we can change is our once-ingrained reaction.

Being able to breathe without being punched in the stomach by life has been pleasant.

It does not lead to many blog posts. Neither does the sorrow of losing mom. I've been affected far more harshly than I expected.

Yet, here I am. Moving forward. Existing.

And, once again, blogging.

Thanks for your patience, my friends, dear readers.

Peace unto Ukraine and peace and normalcy unto you my brothers and sisters.