The mother gets out of bed with the first rays of sunlight that intrude through the loosely closed curtains in her room. Still in bed, with a quick memory aid, she organizes her life and that of her children, who sleep peacefully there, just as she pleases. "It's still early," she thinks, and with the first sign of love of the day, she prays for them and for the joy of waking up again next to the people she loves.

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In a burst of her abundant generosity, she walks into the lives of her most beloved offspring, caresses them, smooths the sheets that seemed to have lost the battle against the night, smiles for the umpteenth time, and placidly and nonchalantly faces the new day of her role as a super-powerful mother.

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Honoré de Balzac once said, "A mother's heart is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness," and that is perhaps the most eloquent phrase in the story that casts mothers as the absolute protagonists of the growth of those who will be the "masters" of a world that is becoming increasingly modern and revolutionary. Children's right to make mistakes is considered part of the permissibility of an overwhelming life they experience day by day, hour by hour.

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Always and inevitably, we all greet our mothers once a year, when the capricious calendar turns red and reminds us that it's "Mother's Day," a hereditary and completely undeserved injustice. And what about the other days? Or do mothers go out of their way for us once in a while during the 365 days of the year?

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On that day, internet portals fill with phrases and praise, each of the netizens writing beautiful phrases and praises on their social networks, pulled from their own concocted minds or copied from who knows where. Fewer publish pseudo-funny memes or shake off their drowsiness by posting a symbolic flower as if it were enough to thank those who made their lives possible.

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Logic should understand that things are backwards. The cliché "Mother's Day is every day" should cease to be a vague refrain and become institutionalized so that these anniversaries receive the value they deserve. 

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A mother isn't a mother for just one day. The daily work that goes unpaid, and which further enhances her role, begins with the first paragraph of this article and ends when the stars begin to populate the sky they paradoxically deserve. In between, many things happen, such as breakfast, lunch, the doctor, school, sports practice, church, walks, dinner, and countless other daily events that are renewed every morning, whether it's sunny or rainy, hot or cold.

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Perhaps for all these reasons, and for many others that have been trapped in the capricious keyboard of a computer, the tribute to mothers should be eternal. Whether they are with us or not. In the first case, to adore and value them for what they represent to the family and the world, and in the second, for the same reason: to adore and value them for what they were while we had the good fortune to have them with us. 

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For all this, let's not wait until a year from now to acknowledge them. Let's hug them and say "I love you" every day, without even explaining it to them; they'll know what it means.