I try to keep one eye on the calendar. That is part of choosing topics to write about, after all — talk about what people are thinking about when they are thinking about it. Holidays, seasons, school rhythms, cultural moments, whatever emotional casserole we are collectively carrying that week.
And yet, somehow, I missed Mother’s Day.
To be clear, I did not miss Mother’s Day in my actual life. I knew it was Mother’s Day when it arrived. I accepted the hugs, the cards, the sweet little gestures, the “please do not make me decide what we are eating today” energy of it all.
What I missed was writing about it. As a columnist. As a mom.
As a person who tries very hard to notice these things before they happen, not several days later when the internet has moved on and every florist in America is taking a nap.