Mother’s Day, 2026

Happy Mother’s Day, to my wife, Jackie,

I know you have laughed at me in the past, for this, for wishing you a Happy Mother’s Day.

It’s okay, Jackie. It’s always been okay. It’s still always okay.

I love Mother’s Day. It’s that one day in the year, when the whole nation, together, officially honors, out loud in the open air, the most significant persons in our lives. Fathers are close relatives, yes, but moms are . . . moms.

Earlier this week, on Friday, I was working at The Banquet, one of the soup kitchens in our town. A father was here, again, sitting at a long table with his seven children, the oldest a girl of 11, the youngest in a high chair.

The faces of the little kids, looking up at me, in the soup line, here at The Banquet, are the same as those of the little kids I saw looking up at me in Vietnam. The same.

Every Mother’s Day, grace smiles on a small gathering of moms and their families, touches them softly, and whispers, “You are meant to be a blessing to many.”

Your family is blessed, Jackie J. Crawford, because of you.

Every day begins with mom. Every day is Mother’s Day, with love, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

A short little story for you . . .