Mothers (and Daughters)

Sigh… I hate this.
An important event is upon us, and there’s no card in the mail. Again.
I can feel the guilt gnawing at me. Will she think I’m a bad daughter? That I don’t care? That I’m selfish? Angry?
It’s strange, actually, that I’m so very bad about sending cards. I’m sure there’s some deep, profound psychological reason for it — though I haven’t a clue what it could be.
Freud would have had something to say about it, I’m sure… but he’d have been wrong. Because I have a block about all events that require cards to go out in advance. It’s not just Mother’s Day. Birthdays, anniversaries — even Christmas cards go at the very last second with much gnashing of teeth and worrying about whether they’ll get there in time.
Silly, isn’t it?
What makes it even worse, though, is that I care about all these events — because I care deeply about all the people on the receiving end.
Especially my mother.
Who always remembers to send a card. Always.
I hope my daughter does better with this when she’s grown.
I hope she loves me as much as I love my mom.
I hope she’s as proud of her mother as I am of mine.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.