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 "The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness." — Honore de Balzac Who doesn't love Mom? She is counsellor and confidante, chauffeur and chef,  love and life. We make mistakes, she guides us in cleaning the mess. We break her heart, she lets it go. She nurtured us, helped us and cherished us.  If necessary she would give her last bit of food to sustain us, her coat to warm us.  In return she asks little and quite often that's what we manage to give. So one day a year we take some time to honour her.  Mother's Day is the time to remind us to say thank you to Mom for, well, everything.  The origins of this event date back to the early 20th Century, when Anna Jarvis began a campaign to recognize the contributions of mothers in our life, "the person who has done more for you than anyone in the world." So this Sunday, mothers will be treated to gifts. They will be indulged. They will be telephoned.

Hanging on my bedroom wall is a painting,  a simple flower in summer colours drawn by one of my favourite artists — my grandson when he was about six years old.  Written above this delightfully simple piece of artwork are the words "Happy Mother's Day!"  One of the first things I see after rising, this masterpiece is a bright spot in every morning. The painting has been in this place for almost a decade now. It reminds me of some other charming Mother's Day offerings that have been tucked away to tug at the heart strings when a moment of nostalgia takes hold.  In a box in my closet are several hand-made cards made by my kids when they were small, adorable little gestures of love with sweet pictures and simple prose.  Though expensive Hallmark greetings are treasured, these first simple ones are most cherished. So with all of the wonderful resources available to us these days,  wouldn't it be fun to make an adult version of those cards for Mom this year? Onli

When it comes to travel I have a preference for keeping my feet pretty close to the ground. It's not so much that being up in the air concerns me, it's more the lack of control; when claustrophobia overwhelms, there's no convincing someone I need to get off — now. In addition, there's being at the mercy of the airlines and no stops along the way. Recalling my trip west some years ago, I'm still feeling the loss of getting from here to there without seeing any of the amazing sights between. So, no, when and where possible, I will drive or ride. This, and recent holiday photos posted by a family member, have sparked some planning for  fun next year with our son and girlfriend.  The notion of a vacation together with stops at various points of interest took us off into another direction entirely, onto the infamous 'Main Street of America'. What, after all, says road trip more than a journey down Route 66. Even though interstate highways took their toll