Mother’s Day-may or may not

It was Mother’s Day a few weeks ago, I told my friend it was Motherless Day because we lost Mom on April 10th. I don’t know if she remembered any of our conversations for the last year, or so, but I still would have loved to have heard her voice on Mother’s Day. But her voice is in everything I do, every day, I just need to listen.

I know she was with me yesterday. I was baking a cake using a recipe handwritten by her, Her handwriting was notoriously indecipherable. She would send me to the store with a list. I would come home. She would ask why I bought Black Olives when clearly she wanted Black Thread….

I know that she was surprised. not really proud, just surprised, that we made a living as potters. She was born in 1928 and certainly didn’t understand art shows, marketing, and online sales. But she knew we were a happy family and love the life we live.

So, as I was mixing the batter for the cake, in a bowl that we made, with a recipe that may or may not have said 15 cups of fruit, to serve to guests on our own dinnerware, in a home filled with love, I know I am not motherless. I can hear you Mom, thanks for all the love, rest easy, happy Mother’s Day.

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