Mother's Day is not just this Sunday

Mother's Day, in my life, was switched around a lot after 1998. This summer will make 19 years since we all lost ours and in 1999, I was left stuck. What do you do? Completely ignore it, pretend it doesn't bother you? It's one less day you have to scramble to the supermarket and stand in line forever as if you were buying Bruce Springsteen tickets. There's a sigh of relief that you and your siblings no longer have to try to outdo each other in order to make her happy. Irish Catholic daughters had this day in their back pocket...or should I say 'their little purses', while we I.C. sons weren't quite sure. So, how do you go about it these days? Not a trip to the cemetery. Those visits are god-awful, the place itself is horrible, with traffic, parking, and noise because it's so crowded. Then you stop off at the conveniently-strategically-located flower shop and pick up one of those little plastic shrines that spell M O M and try to stick it in the ground right next to the grave marker. For a couple of years I would head up to the Music Box Theater for a cult screening of "Mommie Dearest". The times I was up there, long lines formed almost around the block and everyone up there had their mothers with them. There was a Mother's Day brunch across the street before the movie began, and it was 2 hours of hoots, hollers, reciting dialogue and shouting out your answers. I didn't have mine with me, though, and that was a loss. Of course, "THE SISTERS" wouldn't have allowed me to take her up there when she was alive, anyway, but I think she would have had fun. Well, be all that as it may, I still have my memories and I don't just need whichever Sunday in May to tell me it's okay to think about her then. Mother's Day is whenever I feel like it. By the way, the Music Box doesn't show Mommie Dearest anymore, they went for Mamma Mia instead, but I have the DVD, I can snack on something for a brunch of sorts. I'll Google how to make a mimosa and have that as well, if I like. Here's to you, mom.