We never made a lot of fuss about Mother's Day in my family. Birthdays, Christmas and wedding anniversaries were celebrated vigorously with feasts, festivities and presents galore. Of course we acknowledged Mother's Day with chocolates and flowers and, once I was an independent adult, a family lunch. So it came as a great surprise to me that after my mother died, her birthday, her death day, her wedding anniversary were days that were full of thoughts and memories for me, but Mother's Day was the one when I broke my heart. Maybe that started because my only daughter lived the other side of the world – but then she lovingly contacted me on New Zealand's Mother's Day in May. Maybe it was just the title of the day and, somehow it gives we adults justification to grieve again. I don't do it on Father's Day which has always seemed a bit Hallmark Cards, but I do remember and treasure the memories of our time together and the awfulness of his death exactly five months after my wedding day.