It just doesn't feel right. For the first time in my life, I wasn't rushing to make or buy a Mother's Day card.

The chocolates, flowers and gifts await someone else's mom.

Seeing all the ads for Mother's Day promotions only makes me sad, and I'm sure I am far from alone.

To those of us who lost our beloved mothers recently, the Mother's Day hoopla just makes us miss our moms even more.

Well into her 80s, as my mother pulled out a notebook and jotted down random memories of her long life, she told of still missing her mother.

"She was the kindest mother. She had eight kids to take care of, but was never too busy to listen to us or help us if we needed help," my mother wrote, adding, "She kept the family going."

My friend Jane, 65, said her mother, gone for 10 years, played a similar role.

"She kept everybody in touch. She was the communicator in the family. She got us together and kept us together. She was the glue," Jane explained.

Estelle, whose mother died 49 years ago, said she still misses their frequent chats. "My mother was very friendly. She'd talk to everybody," Estelle reported.

Several men whose mothers are deceased said they miss going places and doing things with their moms.

Maynard, 80, described his mother as "very outgoing, bubbly and caring. She was always there for everybody."

He added, "I was an only child, and my mother and I would go to the old City View Diner, and I remember dancing with her there. We also liked to go to the Captain's Table together."

Larry, 65, said his mother died two years ago.

"I miss the stuff we used to do, like going to the malls and lots of other places together," he reminisced.

To his obvious delight, Bill's mother put him, her only child, on a pedestal. Now 79, Bill jokes that "the most important thing about my mother is that she had me."

He continued, "I couldn't do anything wrong in her eyes." Unfortunately, Bill added, she died of heart problems in her 40s, ending his exalted status.

Three people I know who lost their mothers in the last year report still talking to their dear moms. One gazes at the night sky and talks to her through the stars.

Another speaks to her mother's framed photograph. The third talks to her mom while driving to work in the morning.

All believe the communications are reaching their targets.

I hope so.

But just to play it safe, everyone who still has a mother might want to do the talking now, while she can hear those special words. Communicating will be much more difficult when she is gone from this life.

I recall telling my mother over the years that my love of the outdoors and wild animals could be attributed to her passion for nature.

During numerous long walks in the country with the four of us kids, she would introduce us to various trees and birds and wildlife, including snakes. The message stuck; decades later all of us remain nature lovers.

My mom often expressed herself through writing poetry, and although my writing takes a different form, we shared the written word as our creative outlet.

When she would comment on one of my newspaper articles, I'm glad I told her where my inspiration came from.

My problem now is that I want to keep telling my mother things. At least once a day, often more, I think of picking up the phone to relate a funny or outrageous experience to her. Then I remember.

How she would love to hear about the adorable baby squirrel in our backyard or the nest of tiny doves on top of our neighbor's boat. My mom would want daily, if not hourly, updates.

Maybe I'll go outside tonight and talk to the stars. Maybe that will become my new Mother's Day tradition.

Celebrate your mother while she is alive. Once she is gone, no matter how old you are you will feel lost.

My mom understood this perfectly.

In her book of lifetime memories she noted, "I loved my mother and to today I miss her. I don't think anyone ever gets completely over the loss of their mother."

Well said, Mom.