What was the worst day of my life? That's an odd question for Mother's Day. Still, you asked, so I suppose you have a reason.

The worst day of my life was one everyone knew, but not of its importance to me. A mother seeks to give her children what they need, and what they want if it's good for them. She never seeks to outlive them.

I remember watching John follow in his fathers' footsteps. As a toddler, he was so precocious, so determined to do things by himself. He would resist any help, saying, "Me do it! I do it!" in that shrill voice only children have.

He took his first step when he was two and a half. He said his first word a few days later, mama.

When he was thirteen, he won his first sharpshooting competition. He was so proud. I watched John wear that medal for the rest of the day; when I tucked him in that night, he had it resting under his pillow.

I always knew John was special. He had a way of making friends, helping people enjoy life just a little bit more when he was around. I wasn't around him as much as I wanted to be; military life is restrictive that way. But his father and I made sure he knew he was loved, and we would support him in anything he did.

John really put us to the test with that last. One day not long after his eighteenth birthday, he told us he wanted to become a soldier for the Alliance. Of course we tried to discourage that idea, having one family member in the military is hard enough, let alone two.

But, he had his way, and was saluting Gunnery Chief Ellison at Camp Macabe two weeks later. Ellison knew I was his mother, but I told him in no uncertain terms that I would be very upset with him if he took it easy on John. I don't think John ever found out we had talked; now don't you go telling your mother, I have a hard enough time keeping secrets from her as it is.

Let's see, where was I? Oh yes. The worst day.

John worked hard, and got the recognition he deserved. I was as proud as could be when he graduated from ICT, with that N7 blazoned on his chest. He always transferred it to every new armor set he had, something that reminds me of his childhood.

Then, he became a Spectre. That was a proud day for his father and I. Our son, the first human Spectre? We knew whomever he was after didn't stand a chance. That's just how he was, when someone was acting like a bully, John went after him. That's why the Council sent him out, I suppose, they knew when someone was ready to oppose them. So he went out after the Heretic holdouts, on May 11th. Mothers Day. John called like he always does...

Then…he died.

That was the hardest day of my life. My son, my young Shepard; he'd survived a thousand battles and beaten the odds so often the Officers lounge refused to take bets on him. Too bad, I won enough off them to put myself through college a second time.

But he was dead, and nothing came of it. The Council refused to see reason, and the Alliance Brass was just as eager to get on with life. I of course, had my own views, turned down a promotion as soon as they tried bribing me into silence.

Your mother approached me soon after John's death, seeking…I don't know, comfort perhaps? John had often spoken of her in his letters, and I had watched that attraction grow into something more. I had hoped he would bring her home to meet me, or at least set up a video-conference so we could talk face-to-face. But I had to meet her just before his funeral, tell her I didn't blame her for what had happened. I didn't blame Liara at all, but seeing someone whom had been so close to my boy was…heart-wrenching. I think she could tell that, and I've always wished I could make that up to her somehow.

But that's only half the story.

I went back to work, buried myself in my job. My husband, Jim, had died years before. He'd only lived long enough to see our son become an N7, but he couldn't have been any prouder. I'm sure he was watching when John was made a Spectre, just as he was watching when those Collectors blew apart the Normandy.

Why am I sure? Because John came back. That was the best day of my life, and that wasn't possible without the worst day.

I was off duty at the time, it was a Monday, May 1st 2185 when I heard the news: John had been spotted on Omega.

I didn't feel anything at first, just a numb sensation of disbelief. Then I contacted Admiral Anderson, of course he was a Councilor at the time. He assured me that Shepard was alive again, but that he was working with Cerberus. Nowadays Cerberus is just a boogieman; John made sure there was nothing left of it after the Reaper Wars. If you want to hear about that, go bother the Legion platforms always hanging around here. At the time I was shocked, but I didn't care if John was working with Cerberus or if he'd taken up line-dancing with the Krogan Ballet.

I sent John a message through Anderson, asking to meet.

I didn't hear anything for almost a week. Then, on May 8th, I received a transmission. My son was calling on video-feed.

That was the best Mothers' Day I've ever had.


A/N: This was something I threw together for fun. I read about a competition in the Aria's Afterlife forum (great place to visit if you want insight on how to improve your writing), and decided to just go with it. I hope you enjoyed reading this at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it!

To the moms out there, Happy Mother's Day.