May 10, 2026- There was a plenitude of delicious, healthful food at DiMatte’s Mediterranean Buffet, as we celebrate Yunhee’s first Mother’s Day. Hana is still a bit unready for solid food, but she was happy about us going to a large, clean and relatively quiet eatery. She likes people, but doesn’t like excessive noise or heat, which unfortunately are features of many food courts. Besides, this is the first of two special days honouring her parents. Today, and Father’s Day, next month, are on me.

Hana’s understanding of such things is, of course not certain, but probably limited to knowing that her father and I made a fuss over her mother-so she was even more affectionate than usual, towards Yunhee. It was a fine, if low key day, and my daughter-in-law got to do what she likes best, tidying up the common rooms downstairs, and making a nicer play area for her little girl.

In November, 1861, Julia Ward Howe wrote “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”, to the tune of “John Brown’s Body”, as a means of lifting the spirits of those fighting for the Union cause in the American Civil War. After that conflict had ended, she was first impelled to organize the national observance of Mother’s Day, in 1867, Following the calamitous Franco-Prussian War, in 1870-71, Ms. Ward-Howe called for an international observance of Mother’s Day, in the hopes of generating a global movement of women for peace. The opening lines of the fifth verse of the anthem are intended to sanctify the giving of lives: “In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me.
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,^[16]
While God is marching on.” It seldom has worked out that way.

Mothers have never, in their hearts of hearts, desired to see their children slaughtered for the sake of someone else’s agenda. Patriotism mitigates the expression of anti-war sentiments, when it is understood that liberty is threatened by an aggressive enemy, but I recall my mother’s grief when I told her I was headed to Viet Nam, in 1971. I told her at the last minute, as she and my father were saying goodbye at the airport. In the ten months I was there, I handled accountable mail and helped unload bulk mail trucks, but I never faced any real danger from the Viet Cong. There were too many, including two childhood friends, who were not so lucky.

As I write this, the cover page on my laptop shows a setting Sun, still casting an amber glow in the surrounding sky and on the ocean below. I get an odd comfort from this, and feel the strength and love of my mother, my late wife and all my female friends and relatives who have passed on I feel the ongoing love of those nurturing women who are still very much alive-and who tend to the children, animals and the sick who are in their care,

In whatever capacity you nurture, I hope your Mother’s Day has brought honour and solace.