Mother's Day memories
When I was in first grade, more than 50 years ago, our class composed Mother’s Day essays. Even then, I didn’t have much imagination. I remember asking my mother what I should write. Maybe I was always meant to be a journalist, intent on getting a good quote. Well, she gave me one. My essay was excerpted in our town’s newspaper and my mom’s quotation ran under my first-grade photo: “My mother says she is glad I am her little girl.”
I clung to that quote for much of my life, and it helped me weather some difficult times growing up. And I think of it again today. I have been blessed with two boys. They were, are the greatest joy that Fred and I ever shared. And I cling to them now, partly because they are my closest link to their father, but also because both of them have grown into smart, talented, funny and compassionate young men, who have found smart, talented, funny and compassionate young women to love.
Mother’s Day will always be complicated for me, but I can say, without reservation, that I am glad that Ante and Nels were our little boys and that they have grown into fine young men. What more could a mother ask?
Three things I don't understand
Why do you think that your supporters, especially those who believe politics pervades the preaching in mosques (it doesn't), need an executive order allowing them to do the same in their own churches?
Why would you brag that you are staying in New Jersey to spare taxpayers the expense of a visit to New York City when you routinely spend your weekends in Florida at your own resort and bill us taxpayers for that?
Why would you fire someone because you have no confidence in their investigative skills right after you acknowledge that they told you three times that you are not under investigation?