Of a certain age...

Mother's Day, in one form or another, is a secular holiday observed in many countries around the world, usually in the spring of the year. The celebration of Mother's Day began in the United States on the second Sunday in May in 1908, when Anna Jarvis held a memorial for her mother in Grafton, West Virginia. Through her efforts it became a nationally recognized holiday honoring all mothers in 1914, but by the 1920s, Jarvis was disappointed by its commercialization.

The greeting-card companies, florists, retailers and restaurants see Mother's Day as a huge opportunity for profits as their advertisements depict the perfect "Norman Rockwell" remembering of dear old mom.

As a young child, my offerings to my mother usually consisted of cards handmade by me at school. When I was a young married enjoying my own Mother's Day with my husband and young son, there developed a dual expectation: Making sure I remembered my own mother with a gift and card, and hoping I would be duly celebrated according to society's norms. My favorites to receive, of course, were the handmade cards showing that time and effort went into their production. The smudges and misspellings made them all the more precious.

In the blur of my 30s, with a new husband, stepchildren, and then a second baby, Mother's Day morphed yet again as I made sure my four stepchildren honored their birth mother appropriately with gifts I purchased for them to give her. Secretly, I was hoping they would be moved to recognize me as well. Sometimes they did.

After the death of my mother and my second marriage, the holiday became a day of outer nonchalance and inner hopefulness that my two sons would show their love and appreciation in some memorable way. Because of our all living in different locales, the perfunctory card and a phone call (maybe) sufficed while I spent the actual Sunday alone, it being no more special than any other day. Not the Rockwell scene at all.

Now Mother's Day means something totally different, because I have matured and changed my own attitude. Every day is a Mother's Day of sorts as I acknowledge the beauty and wonder of our Mother Earth and all she provides for us.

Most important, however, is that I acknowledge on a regular basis how fortunate I am to have experienced the miracle of pregnancy and birth twice. I have two wonderful adult sons who gift me continually with sharing their successes, failures and minutia of every day. Where their lives have taken them has pushed me to grow in love, acceptance, patience, non-judgment and honesty.

I would not be who I am today were it not for who my sons are.

My younger son, Matt, starts many days for me with a text of several photos from his walks with his dog. Neighborhood flowers (which he knows I love), interesting cloud formations, his black Labrador retriever, and local Seattle street scenes are shared with me. Given the earlier difficulties in Matt's life, having him share his sensitive awareness of nature all around him is a gift of more significance than any card or purchased gift could ever be.

My heart is warmed by his expressed desire for me to take care of myself physically and by his support of my current efforts in that arena. A promise he repeats regularly is that if and when I can no longer care for myself, he will be there to care for me - a promise I hope he doesn't have to keep. Matt's creativity, sensitivity, humor and sincerity make him a very special son.

While watching my older son, Josh, recently at a family gathering being thoughtful, generous, funny, and very much an adult, my heart swelled with pride and love for the man he has become. His work as an orthopedic physician's assistant, after years as a paramedic/firefighter, speaks to his professionalism and service. I had the added bonus last year of having Josh live with me for several months, providing me with company, tremendous help around the house and yard, and the opportunity to experience him up close as a grown man.

Josh's recurring gift to me is allowing me to be a sounding-board when he needs to talk through something important. The fact that he trusts me and seeks my perspective is indeed a gift of immeasurable worth.

So now, as another official Mother's Day approaches, I will celebrate the way that has come to mean the most - with a heart full of gratitude for two extraordinary human beings who provide me with the privilege of being their mother.