I got to thinking about the first time I can totally recall an incident that forced my mother into total mom mode.     She loved to play bridge and was a member of a bridge club that met weekly. This was back in the day when they'd really do it up. They'd take turns hosting, get all dressed up, serve the fancy snacks and beverages. So mom is getting ready and I'm playing outside. There was a tall tree right beside the house. I was barely old enough to climb, but I wanted  to because the tree led to the roof where of course a little boy could be emperor of the earth. After a little emperor-ing I knew I'd better get down before I got caught, so I went to the edge of the roof and grabbed a tree branch to start my descent. Make that a twig. Snap! Down I went. The first thing that hit was my chin. Upper teeth into lower lip. Otherwise unhurt, I was able to get up and walk to the house, blood all over my face, yelling for mom, which was probably coming out, "Mwwaaaaaahhhhhmmm." Well, when Mwwaaaaaahhhhmmmm saw me she freaks for a minute, then gathers herself, strarts cleaning me off and comforting me, blood on her pretty bridge club dress. Off to the emergency room. 8 stitches, but her little boy was eventually fine. Needless to say she didn't make it  to bridge club that night. Whenever I take a close look at what still remains of that scar on my lower lip, I think about how I was all that mattered that night, and about what it takes to really be a mother. I still miss her after 18 years. Happy Mother's Day to all you moms. DB