I think we all take our moms for granted in some way, especially us men.
Despite how much we love our mothers—how much we have always depended on them—as men, we not only take them for granted, we also have no clue what it’s like to be a mom.
This came to me today, oddly enough, during an encounter I had with a raccoon.
None of us can remember our very first family dinners. I’m thinking of the meals we had in the dark, cozy confines of the womb, where we swallowed the flavors of chicken curry or matzoh ball soup, or whatever our mother had eaten for dinner.