What does Mother's Day mean to you? I have been a mother for forty years this
year, and yet when I think of Mother's Day I always think of my mother. You see, my mother passed away on May 5,
1979, just one week before Mother's Day.
Mother's Day that year was especially difficult, and the next Mother's
Day was not much easier. I also think of
my husband's mother who passed away three years ago and how much good she
brought into my life.
I think of my daughters - both those born into
our family and those who married into our family - and their journeys down into
the valley of the shadow of death in order to bring fourteen beautiful
grandchildren into my life. I watched as
my second daughter gave birth to my very first grandchild and marveled at the miracle
of live; however, I have declined opportunities to watch the birth of any other
grandchildren simply because I do not enjoy watching my daughters suffer or
even hearing their cries of pain.
I think about Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ,
the Son of God. We read in Luke 2 about
the journey of Joseph and a very pregnant Mary as they traveled from Nazareth to Bethlehem
I think of Mary once again as she stood at the
foot of the cross where Jesus Christ - her Son - hung. Her heart must have been breaking and many
tears falling as she watched her Son suffer such great pain. John the Beloved wrote, "Now there stood
by the cross of Jesus his mother….
"When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and
the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman,
behold thy son!
"Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy
mother! And from that hour that disciple
took her unto his own home" (John 19:25-27).
I think of Lucy Mack Smith, the mother of the
Prophet Joseph Smith, and marvel at her strength as she supported her son in
his great mission of the restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I think particularly of the great pain she
must have felt to have two of her sons - Joseph and Hyrum - murdered in cold
blood and yet have strength to comfort her daughters-in-law.
Mothers and motherhood are tender subjects. Women who cannot have children ache to
hold their own children. Grown, and even
hardened, men are known to become emotional at the mention of their
mothers. Children always want their
mothers nearby, particularly when they are hurt or sick. Home is never quite
the same place when mother is not there.
I remember a few times during my childhood and youth when I arrived home
from school to find my mother not there.
The home was far from empty because my father was there and numerous
siblings, but it felt empty because Mom was not there.
There
have been many times since my mother's death that I have wished for just one
more day with her or have gone to the telephone to call her. My mother holds a very special place in my
heart, which becomes even more special as I grow older.
Primary
children often sing songs to their mothers in sacrament meeting on Mother's
Day, and teenagers distribute potted plants or chocolates provided by the
Bishopric. I particularly remember
Mother's Day one year after the death of my mother. The Primary children were singing their
songs, and I was in tears with memories of my own mother. One Primary song that particularly reminds me
of my mother is entitled "I Often Go Walking" written by Phyllis Luch
with music by Jeanne P. Lawler. My
mother's favorite color was blue, and she really liked flowers and walking.
I often
go walking in meadows of clover,
And I
gather armfuls of blossoms of blue.
I
gather the blossoms the whole meadow over;
Dear
mother, all flowers remind me of you.
O
mother, I give you my love with each flower
To
give forth sweet fragrance a whole lifetime through;
For
if I love blossoms and meadows and walking,
I
learn how to love them, dear mother, from you.
President Thomas S. Monson stated, "It is in
the home that we form our attitudes, our deeply held beliefs. It is in the home that hope is fostered or
destroyed. Our homes are to be more than
sanctuaries; they should also be places where God's Spirit can dwell, where the
storm stops at the door, where love reigns and peace dwells."
To illustrate what he meant, President Monson
then shared part of a letter written by a young mother: "`Sometimes I wonder if I make a
difference in my children's lives.
Especially as a single mother working two jobs to make ends meet, I
sometimes come home to confusion, but I never give up hope.
"`My children and I were watching a
television broadcast of general conference, and you were speaking about
prayer. My son made the statement,
"Mother, you've already taught us that." I said, "What do you mean?" And he
replied, "Well, you've taught us to pray and showed us how, but the other
night I came to your room to ask something and found you on your knees praying
to Heavenly Father. If He's important to
you, He'll be important to me."'
The letter concluded, `I guess you never know what kind of influence
you'll be until a child observes you doing yourself what you have tried to
teach him to do.' What a magnificent
lesson a child learned from his mother" ("Becoming Our BestSelves," Liahona, Apr. 2006,2-6).
As mothers, we are often too hard on
ourselves. Our children are so much a
part of us that it is hard for us to allow them to use their agency and not
pound on ourselves when they make mistakes.
We often expect perfection from ourselves and feel like failures when we
don't have perfect results. I know I
have had my times of saying "if only I had …." God had enough belief in us to entrust His
children to us. We can't be too bad!
I hope all mothers have a wonderful Mother's Day. We all deserve it!
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