A BLUE-RIBBON DAY

A PRIZED blue ribbon had been pinned to my office wall for years. Not a satin one with a gold inscription, but a paper one that Ellie, my daughter, had crayoned and cut out when she was in first grade. She gave it to me, she said, because I was a "first-prize mom." The ribbon had been hanging there so long that I'd stopped noticing it, until one day recently. It wasn't that particular Sunday in May, but it suddenly felt like the best of Mother's Days.

Seeing that ribbon brought back memories, from kindergarten through college, when I'd "mommed" from a distance, commuting and working far from home. My husband worked nearby and loved his role as a perceptive, diligent, and fun dad. But sometimes I'd wish to just be there for our daughter. One instance stands out.

The summer before kindergarten, our family moved from the Boston area to farmland in New Hampshire. Like many kids, Ellie liked the familiar, and complained that this new place had too many bugs and no buses. But she soon adjusted and happily played in the barn and woods with the girls from across the road. In the fall, although a little shy, she had a good time in a neighborhood kindergarten.

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