On Sunday, I seemed to have a nice mother's Day, with adult children saying all sorts of kind things about me and grandchildren making me cute cards.
On Monday, I couldn't seem to stop crying.
On Tuesday, I kept thinking of this song my father used to sing to my mother every Mother's Day:
Do not throw stones at your mother
You won't have good luck if you do
Do not throw stones at your mother
For she never threw them at you
Do not throw stones at your mother
For some day dear mom will be dead
Do not throw stones at your mother
When you can throw brickbats instead
Mom would always laugh or groan or both at this song.
Curious, I googled it. Apparently, it was an old childhood song, possibly of Irish origin. Dad didn't make it up. There were several versions, most beginning with "Never throw stones at your mother" and ending with "Throw rocks at your father instead." There is no one left alive who can appreciate the levels of painful irony here.
