I spoke in sacrament meeting today. Usually I don’t dread speaking in church, but today was different, of course, because today there was a chance I’d offend half the ward. I’ve never felt so unqualified to talk about a subject, though I don’t know why I should be; after all, I have a mother and my wife is a mother, so I guess that makes me as qualified as any man will ever be to talk about mothers.
I think the biggest problem, though, was that I’ve heard a lot of women, both married and single, with children and without, say how much they hate Mother’s Day in church. Frankly, I don’t blame them, since the theme of the whole day seems to be “Mothers are angels on earth and are the most spiritual and loving and selfless beings that walk the earth.” It’s the sort of thing that’s liable to give people inferiority complexes.
Instead I tried to stay away from the “mothers are a hair’s breadth away from getting translated and taken up into heaven” angle and focus more on my own mother and how, even though she wasn’t perfect and had flaws and whatnot, she made sacrifices for us on a daily basis and often got few thanks in return. Growing up, you kind of take it all for granted, but looking back—especially now that I’m a parent—I can really start to appreciate just how much she did for us.
So, if you’re reading this, Mom, I just wanted to say thank you for everything. I think I am a better man for having a mother like you. I love you and appreciate all that you did and still do for us.
Also, here’s an awesome story about my mom. As I said recently, my parents just moved to Nebraska and are now living on five acres of land just outside of a podunk town. On Friday my mother noticed that a couple of the burrowing owls out in the yard were acting funny, so she went outside to see what was up, and she found that there was a small (only two and a half feet long) rattlesnake outside. My dad and brother were at work, so she did the only reasonable thing: she got the rifle and shot it. Way to go, Mom.