Mothers Day

For Mom, it was the first Mothers Day without her youngest daughter, and for my nieces, Madison and Elizabeth, the first without their mother.

After church and brunch, Demetrios and I went up to Springfield, where Mom lives, for the family gathering. Madison and Lizzy were there, with Daniel, their father. My sister Wendy had come from California. Our brother Mike had to work today. Tisho also joined us, Wendy's eldest daughter, and John, a family friend.

We managed to have a good time, although Barbara was always on our minds.

I had to bring my six baby birds, because of their needing to be fed every half hour or so. That entertained the family and delighted Elizabeth. Here's a picture of her feeding them, in my lap.



We visited Dad in the Alzheimers unit, and he had a good time telling us all about how he had spent his day checking on something for the Defense Department. (He used to be the Secretary to the Joint Chiefs.) Then he got stuck on 8" and 12" cannons and how they work. Never mind. He was enjoying it all, and that was the point.

Then we went to dinner in one of the dining rooms of the independent living section where Mom lives. It had been hyped as very special for the occasion, but in fact it was an indifferent meal. Never mind that, either. The point was, we enjoyed being together.

Then, the long drive home in torrential rain. I kept finding myself humming, "All My Trials," a song Joan Baez used to sing.

Hush little baby, now don't you cry.
You know that your mama was born to die.
All my trials, Lord, soon be over.
All my trials, Lord, soon be over.

Here's somebody else singing it, not quite as well as Joan Baez, but in the same style. Or for a sample of it in beautiful choral style, listen here. (Scroll down to "All My Trials".)

I'm so tired that staying awake begins to feel like torture. Off to bed! Birds, thank heaven, don't eat between sunset and sunrise.

.