On Mothers Day

The speaker at church yesterday said that 80% of mothers actually
hate mothers day.

Add me to that list.

For me, it's always been a day to measure myself against all other mothers, seeing how much I fall short, and bringing to mind with total clarity each and every failure.

I read several *conference talks on "Motherhood" in preparing the music for church (that's the theme for our meetings this whole month.)
The messages touched my heart, and filled me with the vision of what mothering should be.

I wish so much that I had realized earlier how very important that calling is.
I never did have that long-term vision. It seems I was always just trying to
get through the day.

When my kids were growing up, I was working 3 to 4 jobs at a time, trying to help make ends meet. There were times when I literally worked around the clock to meet deadlines.

I had to shuffle the kids from one babysitter to another - and cry all the way to work because the babysitter would often seem put-upon, when I would have loved nothing more than to be able to stay home with them.

Life always seemed too rushed, and we dealt with things in a "management-by-crisis" mode.

I used to joke that I was just the "family cow" [meaning that they would drain me dry, and when I couldn't produce anymore, I would be ground into hamburger and eaten. Gruesome, I know, but there were days that
I felt that way.] LOL

Lovely attitude - right?

Thankfully, I married a man who had a better understanding of parenting.
He was/is a far better 'mother' than I'll ever be.
Our children turned out amazingly well - not because of me, but in spite of me.

The thing I'm most thankful for at this point in life, is the relationship I have with them as adults. They are good and talented and caring human beings.
I feel a bit of a role reversal these days - I look up to and admire them when, shouldn't it be the other way around?

I'm so proud of them!

Remembering My Mom

My mother was a different story. She raised ten of us!
(Many is the time I have asked myself 'WHY?'
...Why would anyone want that many children?)
But she lived for her family. I think that we filled a void in her life.

She was so much fun - we were always going on picnics, playing games, going to the drive-in movies (with a grocery bag full of homemade popcorn and a pitcher of Koolaid.)
She loved parades and fireworks, and every summer we would go to every one of them in the county.

Her fried chicken and home-made fudge are the stuff of legend.

When I was a teen, she was the de-militarized zone between dad and my boyfriends.

When I went to college, she was my savior - always writing homey letters and slipping me a few extra dollars here and there.

When I transferred closer to home, she would often come and pick me up and take me out for a day of shopping and to lunch.
We always went to the same little place (which has become a beloved spot for my daughter and I as well.)
It was just a little greasy spoon, but it was our place.

Mom was also the most devoted person I know.
She never refused a church calling, no matter how seemingly insignificant or how demanding.
She gave 100 percent, no matter what she did, and dedicated her life to serving.
(I remember as a kid that the only acceptable excuse for not going to church
was death!)
She tried so hard to instill that same devotion into all of us.

After she had her stroke, I was visiting her at the hospital when her doctor came in - and, worried about whether she had lost strength in her right side, he said "Raise your hand all those who love the Lord" (he was a bit odd.)
But mom set her jaw, and with steely determination in her eyes - raise it she did... And when he kept saying "higher, higher," she did that too.

There is no doubt in my mind where my mother stood in her love of the gospel.

At the end, when she suffered for months in the hospital - the only thing close to a complaint I ever heard from her was "Why does it have to take so long?"

I often pondered that question - if there was anyone who didn't deserve that kind of suffering, it was my mom. The only answer I could conjure was that there was some sort of sanctification process going on for her, purifying and making sure her place in heaven.

...And, it was a trial process for us, her children.

If there was any fault in my mom, it is that she did too much for us.
I owe her so much that I can never repay.

Thanks mom.
.

*Conference talks on Motherhood:
Mother Told Me Elder Bradley D. Foster
Mothers and Daughters Elder M. Russell Ballard
That Our Children Might See the Face of the Savior
Sister Cheryl C. Lant