Mother's Day. It's hard. I expected last year's to be hard. It was "the first". I'm told by a friend that lost her mother 20+ years ago that it's never easier than the first one. Even though I am a mom now, it doesn't feel special. At all. Thank goodness for the teachers in the preschools and schools--got cute little craft items from the toddlers. Of course, they don't know the meaning of the day. And currently, Colby is sitting on the floor in his sister's dress that she refused to wear on our trip to lunch, ripping out the hair from the head of the doll that was my mother's. Completely innocent. And at least it is not from the head of the doll that is his sister. I don't think Tatiana would take it well. But, she's not a lifeless piece of molded plastic. She'd hit back. Probably bite and most likely yank some hair out of his head.

Interestingly enough though, Colby stood in the hallway in front of the China Hutch that was my mother's and that I for some unknown reason HAD to keep and stared up at the top shelf on the right side. Where the ashes of his grandmother reside. I am pretty sure he sees and communicates with ghosts better than he sees and communicates with people in front of him. I hope he told his Grandma in Heaven (which is what we call her now for the toddlers trying to differentiate between their grandparents) Happy Mother's Day.