It doesn’t seem so long ago I was writing my mom notes for Mother’s Day or that my girls would come jump on my bed squealing in childish voices,”Happy Mother’s Day!” Then, with their dad’s help, they would serve me breakfast in bed. Ah, those were the days!

Today, as I sat at dinner with my family that has grown to include husbands and grandchildren, it dawned on me that I am now the senior mom, that I am the one to whom the mantle of family matriarch has passed. What a weird feeling it is to realize that I am now top of the food chain, the one that will fix a child’s favorite dish and spoil the young ones in the family.

This is part of life’s reality I suppose, and there is some sadness to accepting the truth that comes with the loss of parents who, for so long, grounded me, allowed me to retain some of my kid self. Fortunately, the sadness is lessened by the joy of looking down the table and seeing my family, hearing their laughter, knowing that there are memories to cherish and more to make.

Are these changes what we call passages?

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