Mother's Day

My love to all the people whose relationships with their mothers are not depicted on greeting cards. To those whose mothers are no longer alive; to women who are not mothers or who have lived through the death of a child; to all the children who can't reach their mothers because their mothers are incarcerated, mentally ill, addicted, or demented; and to all the mothers whose children, for whatever reasons, are not forthcoming on official holidays: you are in good company. These holidays cause a great deal of suffering to those whose stories don't fit the picture book.

Recently GrOver asked me where I go to catch my breath. This was the first place that came to mind. It was a glorious spring day in Portland, and I went down to Cathedral Park, under the St. Johns Bridge among the impossibly sunny buttercups, and hummed Build Me Up Buttercup to myself.

Set.