Mothers.

On Saturday I was visiting a friend in a Hobart maternity hospital just after she welcomed her fifth child to the world, her first little boy. It was a miserable, bleak afternoon weatherwise, yet her joy was radiant.

On Sunday my eighty two year old mother in law who has been holidaying in the USA was admitted to a Dallas hospital with pneumonia. It was a decadent, festive morning in our house, we even had cake for breakfast, yet after the discovery of this news my husband's grief was tangible.

Two days and two such extremes - new life and the spectre of death. Life is just like that, I suppose. There is no rhyme or reason. It just is. Mercifully, my mother in law recovered and is on the plane home as I type. Phew.

After such an emotionally intense morning, the children and I spent the afternoon of Mother's Day eating ice cream - even though you could see snow on the top of Mt Wellington out of the window while we were doing so.

Why is ice cream sometimes so good for the soul? It just is. Although it may also have had something to do with the company I was keeping.

R