“My mate, Holder, tells me that I should write in this journal more often.
He is not the only one, and I suspect he is right. But the written word did not come to me early, either in my own language or the human language known as Galactic Standard or English, and so sometimes, I need a little prodding. Because of this, I often only write here when I have something to say.
Although the day known as Mother’s Day is a cultural custom of Old Earth, and had even fallen into disuse on Holder’s homeworld until the fall of the governing body called Homesec, it is a custom Holder and I celebrate with our daughter, Linnah, and our son, Laren.
Yes, some of you who have read this journal from its beginnings, or who have read the books of my remembrances know who they are already, but I have not written here in so long I fear you may have forgotten.
On my world of Evohe, mothers are remembered every day. We see our world herself as a mother, and our own mothers, whether still present (as is my own, Danae) or passed to the far shore of the spirit-river Essei-Khai, are always treasured in our hearts.
They are remembered in the values they pass to us; in the kind deeds and wise words they plant in us like seeds, and even in the traces of themselves they pass to us at our birth. My blue eyes did not come from my mother, but the shape of my hands is much like hers, and when I hold my children, I sometimes think of how she held me when I myself was small.
Those who love us are a song that does not fade, even as the One who sang life into being does not diminish.
We learn the song of life from those who gave life to us, and we sing it ourselves, and pass it on in turn.
On this day, I am grateful for the love of family, but especially for my mother, Danae, who did not pass to me the color of her eyes, but rather, I hope, something of the depth of her heart:
The heart of a mother who, when she still carried me inside her, stayed behind while the man she loved traveled far into the mountains we call the High Country, so that I might draw my first breath in a place of safety. I think that love more often than not means putting others above oneself, and the love of a mother seems to me the best example.
On this day and all days, I wish you the blessing of knowing one willing to set some things in her own life aside so that a new life might grow.