love

I vividly remember when I hated Mother’s Day. I truly wanted to hide under a rock and not come out until it was all over. I so desperately wanted to be called “Mom”, and yet, the universe had other plans for me. My mother felt my suffering, and so I would come out from my rock to celebrate her. My husband and I would take her out to dinner or have her over for a special feast. She was the reason I wanted so badly to be a mother. I had been handpicked to be her child. I could…