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PLYMOUTH &mdash; It&rsquo;s been 52 years to the day that my mom passed away and not one day has gone by that I have not thought of her, relied on her or tried to emulate her.
				We all feel this way about our mothers and fathers. It&rsquo;s natural. But for a guy who lost his mom at such a young age &mdash; she was 42, I was 17 &mdash; it has been extremely difficult.
				My memories are clear. The acts of kindness my mother showed to her fellow human beings have stayed with me through my life. She set an example that we all should live by.
				Elizabeth Kraszewski O&rsquo;Boyle died on May 10, 1968, yet she has lived on through me and will always be in my heart and in my mind. It&rsquo;s the best way I can honor her for all she did in her short life and for what she meant to me, my dad, family, friends and community.
				I remember the day clearly. My dad was at work at Leslie Fay. We had visited my mom in the hospital the night before. She was in a good mood, pain free. I told her I had baseball practice the next day, and she told me to get some rest and play well.
				My mom was always there when I played sports. I could always hear her cheers above all others. She was proud of me. I knew that.
				So as I was getting ready to head to practice, the phone rang. I answered. It was the doctor. He asked for my dad and I told him he was at work. He asked if I was Elizabeth O&rsquo;Boyle&rsquo;s son. I said yes, and then he told me my mother had &ldquo;expired.&rdquo;
				I didn&rsquo;t know what that meant. He then told me my mother had died.
				I dropped the phone, and ran to the neighbor&rsquo;s house across the street. I was confused, scared, shocked, hysterical. We called my dad and told him to come home.
				Now you have to realize that my dad was a disabled veteran, having lost his right leg in World War II when he hit a beach in northern France, ran up a hill to meet the enemy, then stepped on a landmine and ended up in a MASH unit. My dad was tough as nails. He was a pillar of strength, guts and determination.
				That&rsquo;s why I&rsquo;ll never forget seeing my father, the strongest, proudest guy I have ever known, getting out of his car and looking shattered. He was crying. I was crying. Everybody was crying.
				From that day forward, everything changed. Thanks to my dad, we got through it. We got through living a life far less valued without my mom in it.
				But we managed and we bonded.
				I learned so much from my mom and every day since May 10, 1968, I have thought of her.
				She has been there with me from on high to guide me, to advise me, acting like my celestial conscience.
				My dad and I never realized that Friday, May 9, 1968, was our &ldquo;day before&rdquo; &mdash; the day before our lives would change forever.
				Then, on Saturday, May 10, 1968, all of our &ldquo;days before&rdquo; were gone.
				My mom was 42 years old when she died. My dad was 45. I was 17. This was a young family with many more memories to make. And now, it was all gone &mdash; forever.
				I often think how my life would have been had mom and dad lived longer lives &mdash; dad died Nov. 15, 1995, six days before his 72nd birthday.
				I have often wondered about being there for them &mdash; to run errands, to help around the house, to do, well, whatever they asked. The years ahead were to be plenty and they were to be filled with family things, just like we always had up until this day.
				That&rsquo;s why I caution you who have your parents still around. Cherish all of these &ldquo;days before&rdquo; and enjoy each and every second of them.
				Don&rsquo;t complain when they ask you to do this, or go there, or take them wherever they ask. Just do it. And do it with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.
				Remember that each day &mdash; any day &mdash; could be your day before.
				I wish I could pick up the phone, dial their number and hear their voices again. I long to be able to take them to the grocery store, the doctor&rsquo;s office or to a baseball game, or just visiting friends and family.
				On this Mother&rsquo;s Day, remember my story of the &ldquo;day before&rdquo; Mother&rsquo;s Day in 1968. Cherish your days with your moms and dads and make every &ldquo;day before&rdquo; count.
				Value the days you have with them, because you never know when your &ldquo;day before&rdquo; will come.
				Mothers do amazing things on a daily basis that we mere mortals marvel at. A mother can get her kids off to school after breakfast, make their beds, do the dishes, throw in a wash, fold clothes out of the dryer &mdash; and then go to work, where she will do her job better than anyone else, find time to do a little shopping at lunchtime, stop at the store on the way home, cook dinner, pay the bills, catch up with a few friends, help with homework, do more dishes, finish the laundry, tidy up the house, take the dog for a walk, go to a soccer or Little League game, drive the neighborhood kids home, get everybody to bed and still have time for a favorite TV show before somehow transforming herself into a goddess for dad as they head off to bed.
				And that is a daily routine, well, except maybe for the last part.
				So to all you sons and daughters out there, yes, treat mom to a great day Sunday. But don&rsquo;t stop there. Do it every day. She deserves it.
				My mom knew how to do it all. And she and most mothers do it all without ever complaining. They cherish being a mom. So cherish them back.
				Happy Mother&rsquo;s Day.

Beyond the Byline: Cherish all your days with mom