Frank begins the walk with me, Mother’s Day morning, it’s cool and pleasant, and we walk to the river together. Then, I continue on my walk, very slowly, with Charlie and Suzi. I know the day will be special; I don’t as yet know how. I am paying attention to the tiniest blooms I see, looking so carefully down at the ground. My son texts me, breaks my silence, wishes me a happy Mother’s Day. He asks if I want to video chat later, and no. I want to see him. He decides he’ll wear his mask and come over for a visit. Bring your flute, I say. Let’s meditate outdoors for 15 minutes together after you play your flute. I continue my walk, looking forward to this. I grab my meditation stool and the purple blanket my daughter crocheted for me one Christmas, and I sit, spontaneously, under the arch by the garden and wait for him to arrive. Only later do I realize, when he sent me a text, that he took this picture of me, and I’m stunned and grateful that he sees me, like this, under a big sky, in the meadow, waiting for him. We talk for a long time about his life, dreams, hopes, ideas. Then, out of his pack, he pulls his flute, removes his mask. We are seated 8 feet apart. Then, he plays. I close my eyes and let the chilly air cool my cheeks. When he stops playing, we sit in silence. It’s not the silence of indoors. It’s the silence of the meadow, a bit of wind, lots of birds, grass rustle. The sun beams in and out; a moment of warmth consumed by a moment of chill. I feel so much peace and gratitude for this life. Then he suggests a walk around the property to the River. This is just the beginning of a special day of feeling seen, heard, appreciated by my grown children. In the afternoon, a long drive with the girls and Frank to a hike in the woods with the dogs and lots of conversation. Dinner, cooked by Frank. Now, my daughter will be a mother soon. At dinner, she tells me good things about how she feels about my mothering. We all get to tell her how much we believe in her as a mother. My son let me record his flute playing. You can listen too. I hope it will transport you to a moment of inner quiet that will nourish your spirit the way it nourished mine.