It's sad that,

statistically speaking, I'm more likely to remember Mother's Day than I am my mother's birthday. Although when one thinks about it, this is really no great surprise. I have a bad head for dates, at least of a non-historical kind, and in the weeks preceding Mother's Day we all are bombarded with reminders that our yearly chance to demonstrate our love for our mothers is fast approaching. Still, the fact that I'm more likely to remember a holiday manufactured (in large part) by the greeting card companies than I am the day of my mother's birth indicates something sad in my relationship with her. A certain distance. Or perhaps a certain impersonality.

In any case, from now I won't be celebrating Mother's Day or any other mass-produced holiday of this kind. It's time for me to concentrate on the arbitrary celebrations that really matter.