Two days ago was Mother’s Day.

So for me and my brother (and anyone who has lost their mother) it was a Day of the Dead.

For me also a day of regret. Why hadn’t I sent her flowers or cards more often on this day? Our excuse was that this sort of commercialized occasion can no longer carry true significance other than for the bottom line of businesses catering to it. So it was okay to bypass. Even Mama told us that it was.

But in the end, now that she’s gone, it wasn’t. Maybe this blog should be called 42 Mother’s Day Cards Sent Too Late.

Since our mother’s death announced itself before it happened, we had the chance to tell her the things we could have said in those cards. Yet Mama could have better appreciated our appreciation when she was still well, in the midst of life.

Part of that emotional reticence was hers, too. Mama believed in show-don’t-tell when it came to what you feel for someone. And that’s what she did. She showed. She didn’t tell. She loved us and showed us with a million deeds, gestures and helping hands offered, instead of putting that love in words.

I’m not as restrained as she was. And I have come to believe in both showing and telling. That’s why my next post will contain a full-blown and outspoken appreciation of someone very important.

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