Mother’s Day is appropriately celebrated by the whole family, and I manage to sneak in my own mother with a few prayers. She is no longer alive, but what she endured from me makes her a saint.
There was no need for Purgatory for her; what she didn’t suffer from me she endured through seven years of Alzheimer’s. I believe that a just and merciful God has ways to make it all up to her in a new world. There is the light, like the sun, and mountain meadows in that world, with the smell of hay and wild flowers. And everyone is a friend in the presence of God.