I woke up on Mother’s Day with an ache to make something with all the rhubarb growing in the backyard.
I came down the stairs to a kitchen full of dandelions and balloons. So sweet. We spent the morning at the greenhouse, as has become our tradition of sorts. Then I made a strawberry rhubarb crisp and missed my mom. Strawberry rhubarb is her favorite. I thought a little bit about the transition from being someone’s child to being someone’s mother and what all that means on days like Mother’s Day. And although I missed my own mother, yesterday felt exactly as it should, full of warmth and love.