Every bunny needs a mommy

The walk through the card aisle hit me right in the throat. This is the first Mother's Day I am not shopping for cards. I wasn't prepared to be so emotional as I was heading for the prescription counter of the drug store. But it was a relief of sorts as card shopping used to be difficult. So often the flowery language didn't fit the relationship I had with my mother, who died last year. Sure, there was plenty of love to go around and sacrifices made in raising my brother and I, but in recent years my mother became more distant. Since I married and started a family, I wasn't visiting her as much as I did in my single days, and she rarely accepted an invitation to come see us. But that doesn't stop the tears from welling in my eyes as the reality hits. Mom is gone. I remember seeing a little bunny rabbit fleeing from a wildfire last year. As smoldering smoke rose through the blackened trees, I wondered where the baby rabbit's mother was. Clearly the little one shouldn't have been on his own in the midst of danger. The little fur ball found a tuft of dry grass and burrowed in for safety. Oblivious to the world around him, the tiny creature didn't protest when I stroked its back. I hated leaving him there, but what would I do with a wild bunny? I hoped his mother would be back to care for him. A year later, I'm thinking maybe he was all right. Perhaps the Mother Bunny taught him survival skills that helped him make it out alive. That's the way I'll approach Sunday. I'll be thankful for all the years I had with my mother and be grateful for all she did for me. But it's still hard to swallow that during the next wildfire in my own life, I'm on my own.
- Liz Fabian