Mother’s Day is a pretty lugubrious day around here, made even more so today by Chicago’s rain and gloom. There are no mothers here. Both my wife’s mother and my mother are dead. My wife and I have taken to calling this “the orphelins’ home” (quoting Meet Me in St. Louis). All four of our parents are dead—my father for more than half a century. It’s not completely unexpected considering our ages but it’s still lonely all the same.