An interesting moment occurred a few weeks ago in my family.

My mother--at the age of 86--was a classic HRC supporter. She never dreamed that a woman would be so close to being the nominee of a major party for president in her lifetime.

She watched every TV show regarding politics. She loved HRC.

ANd after Hillary conceded and endorsed BO, she even thought briefly whether to go to the McCain side.

But then something happened--something mysterious and exciting...

My mother believed deeply in the candidacy of Hillary Rodham Clinton.  Despite her own poor health as well as my father's, she went door to door in my hometown, Vincennes, Indiana, campaigning for Hillary before the Hoosier Primary.  She phone-banked and donated probably more than she could afford.  And, in what was one of the happiest moments of her life, she attended a rally where Bill Clinton spoke (that's her below the banner in the purple paisley jacket!)  She swooned that night; Bill's still a damn handsome man.  

I am damn proud of her for getting out and participating this most important year, in this most important election.  But we didn't speak for over a month after the Hoosier Primary.  My mother was bewildered and hurt when Tim Russert called it over.  Hillary's quest for the nomination, and my mother's hopes to see a woman her own age, a woman she identified with deeply, wouldn't be over until the last votes were counted.

I, along with millions of other children in North America and around the world, grew up in a single parent household.

My parents divorced when I was 7 and me and my mother moved across the country from Southern Ontario to the Vancouver area.

I was, and remain to be, an only child, so it was a big change.

Yesterday was my sisters annual 29th birthday... Happy 29th b-day again Sis!

So, as the family gathered for pizza and cake my Mom says to me... I suppose you wanted "that Obama" to win didnt you?

My heart broke today.  I know many of you are busy celebrating unity but my heart broke with such a resounding crack that I cannot be quiet about it.  I found out today that I'll never again hear my mother tell me that she loves me.  Right now, it hurts so bad, I can hardly bear it.

The voice that sang lullabies to me; the voice that encouraged me in every adversity I ever faced; the voice that greeted every birthday, Christmas, and special event in my life and the lives of my children; the loving and supportive voice that has been a constant in my life has been silenced.

Granted, I've known for a few weeks this day was coming, but somehow that doesn't make this moment any less painful.

The Jeremiah Wright stuff was an attempted Swiftboating.  Why didn't it work like it did in 2004?  Interestingly, my mother (a white, rural, female in her mid-50s) has a great answer.

Elementary School stages, when in use, are frantically photographed/videoed by at least a dozen parents so the results can be dragged out at holidays and when subject child brings home a potential spouse.  

So, it always amazes me that each school I've been to has a more craptastic sound and lighting system than the last.

My daughter's school does not break that pattern.  (If any upper-management from a large oil company just HAPPENS to be reading this right now, PLEASE make a note for your next donation cycle!)

When she was younger she looked just like the actress Susan Hayward.  She had auburn hair and hazel eyes that flashed when she was angry.  She was the center of attention wherever she went.  She loved to sing and dance and she was good at both.  More than anything, she loved to laugh.  She was a woman who made her own way in the world.  She was a feminist before anyone coined the term, a woman ahead of her time.  She was my mother.  

My Mom died a little over twelve years ago when I was 16 from Lung Cancer. She was an incredible mother and when I hear Senator Obama talk about his mother I cant help but be reminded about my Mom, what she meant to me, what she taught me about life during our 16 years together and how I still aim to live up to the values she instilled in me and the example she set.

First and foremost, she taught me that I should aim to live by the golden rule, do unto others as u would have done onto you. She taught me that I should try to judge people by the content of their character and not just by how much money they have or what they look like or to whom they were born. She also taught that there is much more to life than just material things, something that is sometimes easy to forget in America today.  Now I dont always live up to the ideals she taught me, nor did she at all times, but these were the values she wanted me to live by and I think the more mothers that do that the better world we will live in .  

This is my Mom.

She, and my Dad taught me and my brother a thing or two about hope and reality and the content of our characters. I should note that they taught this by example. And therein lies...

I blew it.
On a day when Sen. Barack Obama gave a historic speech on race in America, I had a chance in my own little world to stand up for what's right; to stand up for what unites us; to stand up for what's best about America.

But I didn't. Instead, I let my mother's racist comments stand unchallenged. If I had the chance to go back in time and change the conversation, this is what I should have said. And sadly, I am not making her comments up:

If you have worked for a defense contractor, doing something used (and heavily promoted) during the first Gulf War then your spouse may receive benefits undreamed of in our play-or-pay system.

Dad didn't mean to play. He was an engineer. It was his love of figuring out complex systems that brought health returns and complete medical coverage to my mother after his death.

Hotel rooms should be so nice.

Warning:  This is not a political diary.  It is my humble attempt at conveying a message about shared humanity.  With all of the ugliness in candidate wars (and yes I contribute my fair share of nastiness), I hope you will find this story thought-provoking.

And yes, this story is based on real events.  It happened to me towards the end of summer 2007... I knew I would write about, just not when.  This afternoon it hit me.  

Please join me below the fold for the story - I hope you enjoy it.

You ever have a sudden inspiration about something that you wished you had said in a conversation hours, days, or years before? Of course you have, we all do that. A few hours ago, I was talking to my mom on the phone, and the conversation somehow drifted into politics for a few minutes. She said she was going to vote for Hillary, which was a bit of a surprise to me. The last election that I think I know how she voted was the 1984 election, and I'm pretty sure she voted for Reagan. So I always assumed she was a former Democrat who went Republican during Reagan's first term, like my dad, who's been a Rush Limbaugh fan for over a decade.

I dismissively said momma, you're not a democrat, to which she said, oh yeah, I'm all about Hillary. Huh, I thought. And said, well what if Obama gets the nomination, you're going to vote for him, right? Or at least, that's what I would've said, if she hadn't cut me off. He's too arrogant, she said. If he gets the nomination, she's just not going to vote at all.

I love that woman, bot golly-geepers, I swear she does stuff to me on purpose:

Remember those poorly Photoshopped, eagle encrusted and "nationalistic" FORWARDED e-mails your mailbox would fill up with in the months after September 11th, 2001? Well, both my mom and my mother-in-law were the prime culprits when it came to me control-clicking and deleting these wastes of time.

To remedy this, I "forgot" and "forget" when asked to give my email address to my in-laws. However, what kind of jerk would I be were I to keep my mom out of my little loop?

Just got off the phone with my mom. Was telling her about how great all you good folks are here for donating $500 to my campaign so far (yay!).

She said, "Oh yes, I've seen that site."

So now my mom is lurking at DKos.

So, it appears that the child care thing is working out.  Thanks to the two hunks from SanFran who will remain nameless and their most beautiful pretty pretty princess!

Thank you to all the people who came up with suggestions on how to co-op and split costs for child care.  This wouldn't have been possible without it.  

This weekend we celebrate Mothers.
We either buy cards and flowers, take mom out for dinner or call her long distance.
Some make their own gifts.
The best mothers day gifts I have are a rumpled card circa 1998, its a photocopy that was coloured in. The lines were carefully followed, not always successfully. The other is a picture my son made in 2000, with a photo of himself enclosed in a frame of popsicle sticks. Now, to be sure I will receive grander gifts, but these are the ones I will always remember.

Often, people (not all) think that giving mom special treatment that one day lets them off the hook for the rest of the year.