Mom never really got into Mother's Day, she felt it was just another manufactured holiday with very little meaning. She always said you should try to make everyone's life a little special every day, and I think we did a pretty good job of that. Every day at ten AM, I called her on the phone and chatted with her briefly. Sometimes, I'd tell her a stupid joke and hang up, whereupon she'd call me right back with an even worse joke and hang up on me. (This might go on for as long as ten minutes until one of us pointed out that this behavior was a gratuitous waste of company time. And then we kept talking.) I lived for those chats, especially after I moved in with Sweetie and was out of the house.
I still called her even when the chemo got really bad. Those were great chats, despite the fact that they were short. I still remember one of our last conversations:
Mom: Knock knock, Tommy.
Me: Who's there, Mom?
Me: Orange who, Mom?
Mom: Orange ya glad I called you today?
Happy (belated) Mother's Day Mom. It's now ten AM, and I still miss our phone calls.