Missing Mom on Mother's Day

ASK ARIZONA

Mother’s Day is always a confusing time for me because my mom is not around. Any thoughts?

-Confused in Concord

Dear Confused,

I had no idea how confusing Mother’s Day could be until something happened during Writing Club at the library. Our first project was to write mysteries. The next week, we made comic books. And the third week, our librarian, Mr. Sendak, piled stacks of cookbooks on every table.

“Yes!” my friend Ollie said, grabbing a book of chocolate recipes. “This is my kind of cookbook!”

“Today we’re going to write down food memories,” said Mr. Sendak. “Let’s see if the pictures in these cookbooks remind you of anything you especially loved to eat or drink growing up. What did it smell like? Can you remember a time when it made you feel good to cook it, eat it, or share it?”

I started turning the pages of a breakfast cookbook and stopped at a recipe for Belgian waffles.

“Oooh!” I said. “This makes me think of the time my dad made fancy blueberry waffles for my fifth birthday and my parents let me pour my own syrup.”

“Syrup is the best part!” said James, a new friend Ollie and I had met at Writing Club.

“That’s exactly what Cow thought!” I giggled.

“You have a cow?” James asked.

“Arizona’s cat is named Cow,” Ollie explained.

“Yep,” I said. “Cow walked right through the puddle of syrup that I spilled, and our house was covered in sticky little paw prints for days. I’m going to write about that!”

“Chocolate cake, chocolate brownies,” Ollie said as he drooled over the pictures. “Oh! Mexican hot chocolate with marshmallows. That’s it! I remember the first time I ever played in the snow. We went to this cabin in the mountains, and I was sledding down a hill, and I went flying!”

“That sounds awesome,” said James.

“Yeah, the flying part was pretty cool,” said Ollie, “but the landing part really wasn’t! I was so sad and sore until my abuela made me some special cinnamon hot cocoa. Now, whenever things get tough for either of us, we make that hot chocolate together. I’m going to write about that.”

James just kept flipping through the books.

“What’s your favorite food memory?” I asked.

James shrugged.

“Come on,” said Ollie. “We want to hear about it!”

James sighed, put down his cookbook, and said, “Saturday night was always breakfast-for-dinner night. My mom used to make the best french toast with apple butter, and sizzling turkey bacon on the side.”

“Yum!” I said. “How did you start that tradition?”

But James didn’t answer. He just picked up his pen and started to write.

Half an hour was up before we knew it, and Mr. Sendak asked for volunteers to share their writing.

When it was time to pack up our things, Ollie said, “Hey, I just had a genius idea. If we put our waffles, french toast, bacon, and hot-cocoa recipes together, we could make an epic Mother’s Day brunch for our families.”

“Yes!” I shouted way too loudly for being at a library. “I bet my parents will let us have it in the backyard.”

James slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Sorry. I’m booked up that day.”

Ollie laughed. “Do you know the future? We didn’t even choose a day yet.”

James took a deep breath. “Actually,” he said, “my mom doesn’t live with my dad and me right now.”

“Oh, your parents are divorced?” said Ollie.

“It’s not that,” said James. “My mom has to be in prison for a while, and I hardly ever get to see her.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That sounds hard.”

“Really hard.” Ollie nodded. “My mom isn’t around either, and sometimes I miss her so much.”

“Do you live with your dad too?” James asked.

“No,” said Ollie. “I live with my grandmother.”

“Abuela is the best!” I said.

“And she definitely loves parties,” said Ollie. “How about I bring my grandmother to our brunch, and you bring your dad?”

“I guess that could be all right,” said James. “But I should probably see what my dad says first.”

Luckily, James’s dad said yes. Also luckily, my parents agreed to have the brunch at our house. Unluckily, they said I’d have to sweep the patio and help with a humongous garden cleanup first!

It was a lot of work, but on the day of the party, the backyard looked fantastic. The food turned out great, and everyone had a deliciously good time.

Oh, also, James sent his mom a beautiful card that he made, photos from our brunch, and his breakfast-for-dinner memories. He said his mom loved them.

So, dear Confused, I realize that not having your mom around has to be extremely tough. The biggest thing I want to say is that there’s no right or wrong way for you to feel.

Ollie said that it almost always helps him to talk about his feelings with grown-ups and friends he trusts. And James told us that even though his mom wasn’t there at the party, it felt good to think about her on Mother’s Day.

I also want to thank you so much for your letter. It reminds me that it’s important to be as kind as possible, because you never really know what other people are going through.

Ciao for now,

Arizona