To my mother

On Mother's Day I find myself lost in memories of the woman who bore me, raised me up, and is now my best friend. The topic of the first sacrament meeting talk was something along the lines of mothers being the givers of life. I heard very little of the talk because Isaac was doing his best to sneak crayons and color the pews.

But the idea has stayed with me all day. The idea that mothers give life seems obvious and while it is certainly an admirable feat to give physical birth, the gift of life seems like so much more than just providing a physical body. Life is so much more than that; it is the way that we relate to each other, the way we interact with the world, what we value and who we are. I have spent the day reflecting on the life that my mother gave me.

My mother valued work and taught us to do the same. There is, she taught us, no shame in any type of honest work. No one is too good for hard work. We all got jobs about as soon as we could and worked hard.

Mom loved learning. She lived a life of books and gave that love to her children. When she went back to school as an adult and received her degree, it was only a formality. She was already so well read, so educated and such a lover of knowledge. When my mom was reading a good book we all knew it and heard about what she was reading. In my college classes it was confirmed what I already had learned from my mother: children need to see their parents enjoying books. We all love to read and all see learning and knowledge as the key to solving problems. We look to books for answers.

Momma served. She taught seminary, gave countless rides, served in every calling in the church and did her very best in every one of those capacities. She did it without fanfare. She also facilitated the service my father provided to so many. Her current missionary assignment is the pinnacle of years of working in the church. She quietly keeps the San Diego mission running.

Mom listened. She listened to everyone and so many people talked. We lived close to the high school and every day my friends and I would come home for lunch and she would listen, without judgment, to all of us. I woke my mom up when I got home from dates and parties to tell her everything. While she listened she taught me to communicate and how to sort through my thoughts and feelings. The ability to communicate my needs and feelings is an asset every day.

My mom loved. Everyone.

I am so grateful to this good woman, for giving me life (and a good one, at that).

Happy Mother's Day!