Remember this.

Yesterday, Mother's Day, May 14, 2017, Kate is 9 and I am 43.

On the way down the stairs at home, dressed and ready for Mass: She takes my hand to hold.

On the way out of the church, in the beautiful sunny day, chatting and talking: She holds my hand again.

On the way to the car after a lovely brunch: She takes it a third time. I looked down at her hand in mine, and I just want to remember how it felt, how natural and soft and sweet it was, forever.

Also, twice during the day, my nearly-teenage son kissed me on the cheek. Once when he was directed to by his Dad, for a photo op, and another time while I was just sitting at the kitchen table. He just came right up to me and leaned in. Stayed a while, too, after the peck on the cheek, just side-hugging me.

I do like Mother's Day, quite a lot.