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So what new could I possibly say about Mother's Day?
I suppose I'll project.
First of all, to have a child takes a huge physical toll. Women are built to last, specifically because they have to carry a human parasite for many months. Towards the end, it is difficult to do anything at all. And yet mothers persevere.
Afterwords? Human children are born helpless. We are unique among the animals. We are incapacitated at birth. The only way that we can be as smart as we are, and women can maintain a reasonable hip-size, is that we're born incomplete. And this means that our mothers must care for us.
This is a tremendous sacrifice. It isn't just nine months. After we are born, we aren't even animals. We aren't even human, we are writhing things that need to be protected. We are need machines. We are black holes that take and take and take.
And still mothers persevere.
The strong, passionate women find their dreams replaced by screaming diapers and formula. Their passion shifts from worldly things to this one evolutionary thing.
Dreams evaporate, but never really die. Good, strong children are enough, aren't they?
And so, on Mother's Day, I say to my mom: I'll try to make all of your sacrifice worth it. I'll try to make you proud.
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