*cough* cough* hack* sniffle*

Once upon a time, a sick child could rely on her mom to bring an armful of juice, jello, hugs, and maybe a bucket if necessary.

As an adult, home alone for the weekend, I can only count on the cat to respond to these sounds. For all the joy that kitty-nuzzles bring, they don’t exactly fight off swollen lymph nodes and body aches. At a time like this, I just want my mommy. And really, lying in bed in a quiet house put a few things into perspective.

Next sunday is Mother’s Day and I’d like to take this opportunity to thank my mom for venturing out to the store (even when she was also sick from her two little plague carriers).

…for quickly cooking up noodle soup and making jello when I fell ill (and for hauling away that bucket when I was REALLY ill).

…for taking the time to sew me and my brother so many clothes and Halloween costumes (and I’d like to apologize for thinking I was too cool for them once I hit my teen years).

…for making beautiful birthday (and Valentines Day, and Chinese New Year, and St Patricks Day, and Back to School, and Halloween, and Christmas) cards year after year.

…for having lunches packed and dinners cooked almost every day.

…for somehow making sure I woke up in time to catch the 7am bus to school.

…and for tolerating my obliviousness about how much work is required to take care of two kids. (I have enough trouble taking care of myself at times.)

To my mom, happy 30-years of being a mother!

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