Marga My Mom
This is my beautiful mother. She is with my oldest son, her first grandchild. When he was little he couldn’t say "Grandma" and so she has been "Marga" ever since.
Yesterday I went to a tea in the third grade classroom of our youngest son. I sat there and cried unashamed tears of love, joy and inspiration. He kept leaning over, patting my arm and saying "I’m so glad you’re here." Then he would smile and pay attention to the program again. Afterwards he said "I’m so glad you rearranged everything to be here. Thank you for coming." Have you heard of a kinder, more thoughtful nine year old boy? I challenge you to find one, because unfortunately, nine year olds aren’t what they used to be. Here is the face of my handsome little man. Happy Mother’s Day to Moms everywhere.