世上只有妈妈好

Mothers' Day came and went, leaving cyberspace with a plethora of blogs as tribute to the wonderful calling of motherhood. I wanted to add my little bit here too, but struggled to find the right words to express my gratitude.

I'm sure what I have to say right now will not even come within a mile of doing my mother justice. But I doubt anything ever could, so I'll at least make a feeble attempt.

All weekend, I'd been idly collecting a list of things to be grateful to Mom for, but while I could think of countless sacrifices, none of them struck me with satisfying intensity. I knew I loved and appreciated her and could think of all the right reasons why, but I didn't feel it like I felt I should have. The true grattitude did not hit me until today.

As I stood in the laundry room putting aside my work uniform to hang up, I suddenly recalled the image of my little navy blue school uniform, lovingly ironed and hanging from a hanger on the doorknob of our bedroom early in the morning before school. I was picky about what I wore even then. To anyone else, they were all the same dark blue pinafore, but Mom always remembered that on Thursdays, I wanted to wear the "Persona" brand uniform because that was my favorite day of the week. Such a simple memory, yet, as I stood there folding my warm clothes, I was overwhelmed with grattitude, so much that I was brought to tears.

In these moments, I see Mom in this montage with random moments of motherly sacrifice flashing through my mind. I think of the gown I wanted for my 9th birthday. They didn't make dresses long enough in the stores, so she made one for me. It even had puffy sleeves. I remember crying, being moved spiritually, even as a little girl, when she sang us to sleep with "Jesus Once was a little child". The letters she wrote me while I was struggling to want to do the right thing as a teenager. The time her voice cracked in family scripture study when reading about Christ and the little Nephite children. It brought us to tears. I think about kneeling with her and my sister in prayer when we needed Him most. She's taught me by her example to rely on my Heavenly Father in my time of need. I can't forget the time she had to leave the room to cry, when I was overjoyed with my acceptance letter to BYU-Hawaii. There is nothing greater nor more powerful than a mother's love.

Today in my Book of Mormon class, Elder Parsons talked about the atonement. The laws of mercy required that someone who was willing and able to pay the price for us. He said that to find someone who was willing was easy - almost any one of our mothers would have pleaded to take our place. I thought of my mother pleading to my own father for mercy in her own way, pulling me through my last weekend at home before leaving for Hawaii. All those times she cried for me. There is no end to her sacrifice, no end to her love.

As I've come closer and closer to adulthood, my thoughts have constantly been turned to my mother. At the time she was my age, she had just married my father, moving away from home for the very first time. Now, as I contemplate marriage and having to make the biggest decision I've ever made in my life, I look to her and the choices she made then. I've begun to notice the parellels in our lives and as I become more and more like her each day, I begin to love her in a whole new way. I know I will never fully comprehend the depth of her unconditional love for me until I become a mother myself.

And if I ever feel the need to doubt my Heavenly Father's love for me, I can look to Mom and be reminded.

When I was younger, Mom was someone to be feared. She was the enforcer, and while I did love and appreciate her then, it wasn't till I was older that I begin to identify with her to a much greater degree. Now, our womanhood binds us together. I see the love and concern she has for my younger siblings and learn of her personal trials, and my love for her grows, from the simple adoration a young daughter has for her self-sacrifcing mother, to a profound reverence for the most wonderful teacher, counsellor, example, but most importantly, a woman of immovable strength, a beautfiul and precious daughter of God.

Mom would always express how she felt that we were all friends in the pre-existence and that Heavenly Father placed us in this mother-daughter relationship that we could continue our friendship and learn from each other in a unique setting. The more I learn of her, the more she becomes my friend. My best friend. I doubt that there is anyone else on this earth who could know me to the same degree Mom does. That is the special bond that we will always share.

To Mom, I will always be that tiny little baby she held in her arms moments after bringing me into the world. She will always love me the same, no matter who I've become all these years after. There's just so much to being a mother that we don't see and don't understand. I doubt that there is much I can do to repay my debt to her in this lifetime, but I owe it to my children to be half the mother Mom was to me.

Even though she's only a size 3, I have large shoes to fill.

Thank you, Mom, for being best mother I could ever ask for. I love you.