This was meant to go up on Sunday . . .

. . . but, well, time makes fools of us all. Anyhow:

Last Thursday, I went over to a friend's house to barbecue up some hamburgers. Upon arriving, I realized that I had forgotten to bring my barbecue sauce. Not to be defeated by my own absentmindedness, I proceeded to mix together some catsup, vinegar, olive oil, sugar-in-the-raw, and some herbs described on the package as "Italian". And, as a matter of fact, this turned out to be a quite serviceable barbecue sauce. The burgers turned out quite well in the end.

But this is more than just me bragging about my saucery skills. What I realized, while stirring things up with a fork, is how it is that I was able to do this. The answer, of course, is my mother (or Mom, as I affectionately call her). Although I may not be famous for my common sense and practical application of knowledge, pretty much every time I do any of that, it's thanks to my mother. She's taught me an awful lot over the years. She's encouraged me when I'm doing well, pushed me when I'm not so much, and patiently understood when certain things have proved to be lost causes. And she continues so to this day. Certainly others have contributed over the years to shape who I am, but the little things that help me get by through this nutty ol' world I owe almost entirely to my ol' Ma.

I recently went out to dinner with several friends, associates, and Mom. It was a fine time, but a few times over the course of the evening she said a few things that embarrassed me in the way that only your parents can ever make you feel embarrassed. But then it occurred to me that I was the only one who felt embarrassed, I was the only one who knew I felt embarrassed, and I was only embarrassed because it was my mother. It was a warm, comfortable realization, and it made me feel even closer to my closest living relative.

That's what's on my mind this Mother's Day.



. . . and, well, this Tuesday, also.