everyone has a mother

tonight we had an apollo burger for dinner.
it wasn't crowded at all.
we could see everyone in the restaurant,
which made one patron more noticeable.
he was a 40 something-ish man,
and it was obvious he had schizophrenia +.
i made an attempt to not stare when he had his head down in his food,
or when he was throwing pastrami at the ceiling,
or as he was conversing with himself about something that didn't exist anywhere except in his mind.
when i was observing him i had to glance past all 3 of my children to see him.
my big, tender heart just couldn't help it,
but i started imagining how many years ago he could have been sitting at a table with his own mother playing I spy in a restaurant or showing off how he can make cross-eyed faces while wiggling his ears.
perhaps his mother knew way back then what her son's future would be like,
maybe she didn't.
i know nothing about what kind of mother he had when he was 4, 6, or 8,
but i know he had one.
we all have one.
i can't predict what my own precious children's lives will be like along another 35 years,
but however it ends up,
it won't ever change that they will always be my child
and i their mother.
every year around mother's day i manage to get a spontaneous heart tapping experience that reminds me of the unique privilege it is to provide life for another human.
tonight it was the man at apollo burger,
the man who has a mother,
no matter what.