Mother’s Day is Sunday and I must remember to send Mama a card this year!
I’m inconsistent in this area, a bad daughter some might say. But not my mama. When I call the day after her birthday, or weeks after her anniversary, or even late on Mother’s Day to say time just got away from me (again), she tells me not to worry.
“Aw, Colleen, you know I don’t need a card coming in the mail to know you’re thinking of me.”
And she’s right. I think of her all the time. Her spunk, her forgiving nature, her sense of humor, her love for her family, her sense of style, her dear friends—who were like second mothers to my siblings and me—her dedication to St. Jude and the angels and to making life fun for all of us around her.
Whoever said, “Angels can’t be everywhere, that’s why God gave us mothers,” clearly didn’t know much about angels—but they sure must have known my mama.
