After weeks of cold and thunderstorms and gray days, today is beautiful.  The sun shines, the breeze blows and my balcony beckons.

There is a young mother on the grounds of my condo building, playing with her son who is about 4-5 years of age. There is delight in her and happiness in him. It reminds me of the times I spent with my own son while he was growing up.

My son and I shared a special bond in his early years that held my life together by the love and awe that only a woman can feel towards the life she has produced. Though I only had the one child, I have always been profoundly grateful for my son’s conception and development in my body, and the gift of giving birth to a full, separate human being.

The child-upon-my-lawn is full of joy. He bats a ball to his mother with supreme glee while she struggles to catch it and toss it back. She expresses shock at his prowess, pride in his stroke. He tries harder to be better. He misses, she laughs and grabs him in a hug as they both slip to the ground in laughter.

I remember those days of play, and a picnic in the snow (“The Winter Picnic” by Robert Welber) that froze my behind and fingers. Memories of reading to my son at night…trying to find answers to his questions on life and the behaviors of others…these flood my consciousness, and I am in peace.  I am thankful to have not only given life to programs…projects…but to relationships.

The little boy in my yard waves to a helicopter overhead that is coming in for a landing at the nearby airpark. I smile. Though I know the pilot and passengers don’t see, I still want to wave, every time, too. My childhood is still within me.

From the corner of my building, the father walks around and joins the fun. The family of three gives me unexpected hope in the future.

I know many women who are single mothers; children who have been abandoned; husband and fathers who neglect their children and mothers. I know too many children who have grown up to make choices that have cost them their health, families and tragically in some cases, their lives.

Yet today…in the sun soaked backyard of my condo, all is well, and life is good.

On this eve of Mother’s Day, I say with profound gratitude, I am happy that love still exits in units. That children still matter to so many. Ultimately, I’m glad love is so powerful. A mother will always be a mother, and nothing upon this earth ever changes that relationship to her child(ren), and rippling outward, to the world. Because of my own motherhood, I have learned to love the child in adults. I share their dreams…innocence…and struggles. They will never be alone, if they are in my space.

To all my fellow moms…happy Mother’s Day. May you continue to be honored every day of your life for all the love you awaken in yourself, and others.