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Apres Mother’s Day.

The brunch or lunch is over. The flowers and cards have been bought. The mom’s have had a day to celebrate their years of hard work.

On Saturday, I was buying sausage in a well-known NY German meat market (that sounds funny, doesn’t it?). The older gentleman behind the counter was wrapping my purchase and wished me a Happy Mother’s Day tomorrow. I thanked him of course. He then asked the question – “You have children?” I said Yes I do. He asked their ages. I said, Oh they are 25 and 23. He said “Months?” with a sly smile. “No, they are grown now” I replied, knowing he was being kind. “Well you have done well…I should be so lucky.” I got a compliment and 4 sausage links for $5.63.

Yes – I have been fortunate to help raise two daughters, Kristen and Nicole. Although they were not born from my body, I have cared for them and loved them. I have tried to be the best mother I knew how – sometimes faultering, often worried – but I always tried. Today, they are two beautiful young women who I am very proud of. What greater gift can you have as a mom than that?

My mom, Beatrice Esquirol, is unfortunately no longer with us. She died young, a mere 67 years old, at the beginning of her retirement years. She was a wonderful woman, mom, friend. She was not perfect…nor are any of us. She was just a woman with a huge heart, a selflessness that surpasses most, and a giggle that made everyone smile. She was, and IS, my mom and I look forward to the day when I see her again and climb into her lap like I so often did (even as an adult – it was a little fun joke between us.)

I miss you mom.

It’s a beautiful spring Friday and Times Square is having a bomb scare. I haven’t heard much except there was a suspicious package. I heard evacuation. I’m on the opposite side of midtown so I don’t see any of the flashing lights, or crowds standing around wondering….I don’t have the sense of urgency that emergency personnel must be feeling as they race to handle the unknown. But I do feel the anger, the passion, the desire to protect our great city. Those of us who live here and make our livelihood here are just trying to live our lives like those in any big city of the world. It is our Home. Why must those who don’t appreciate or understand our way of life, feel the need to destroy it? To hurt the innocents? Does that really make sense on a deep human level?

I don’t understand many a religion or political philosophy but I don’t feel the need to destroy it. I figure it is my job as a member of the human race to accept our differences. If we all did that, perhaps we could have a sliver more peace.

Bombs in cars. Bombs in packages. Why? Is it the Naked Cowboy that upsets you so?