Throughout the evening the words, “This has been my favorite Mother’s Day.” have escaped my lips more than once.  As I speak those words, they are true.  In between the times they’ve been spoken, this has been my most painful Mother’s Day.

This is my 7th Mother’s Day without a mother.  The pain has come in waves.  I look at pictures of my Mom and listen to recordings of her voice, but the teasers are not enough.  I long to feel her arms wrapped around me.  To feel her cheek pressed against my own.  To feel the warmth of her breath and to inhale her scent.  I want to hold her hands and look into her eyes and thank her for all the things she did right.  Thank you, Suzi, for the voice in my head.  Thank you for blue-green eyes, the no-gray-hair gene, and mad cooking skills.  Thank…