Mother's Day Revisited

I was asked to speak in church on Mother's Day this year.
Luckily I was out of town and couldn't do it.

But I've wondered what I would have said.

There is great diversity and complexity of feelings among women on Mother's Day. What do they want to hear on that notable day? What don't they want to hear?

One year in Relief Society, the teacher went around the room and gave every woman a chance to stand up and share something about their mother. I was shocked and saddened by the number of women who didn't stand up, who couldn't talk about their mother, who hunched over and hid in agony. What do you say to those women? I wanted to weep for them, and for the gratitude I felt for my own good mother.

To those whose children have gone astray in spite of their best efforts--
To those who can't bear children--
To those who have never married--
What do you say to them?

To those who are exhausted, who have given their body and soul and life to their children--how can you begin to name and measure and appreciate all that they do, and the depth and breadth of their influence?

Someday I may attempt to write a Mother's Day talk.
I don't know what I'll say, but I may include a poem that I shared with my mother. She shared it with her posterity at our last reunion. I know it's how she felt. It's also how I feel.

A Mother's Day Sonnet
by Bertha A. Kleinman

No pedestal for me on Mother's Day,
Nay, rather let me seek my children's shrine,
And there on bended knee attempt to say
Some tithe of what is in this heart of mine.

I want no laurel wreathed about my head,
I so at fault, so human and remiss;
Mine be the hands to halo you instead,
Who gave to me a royal day like this.

I ask no recompense--I have it all;
Each day brims up my measure of content,
As your success, magnificent or small,
Becomes my own in double lavishment.
So love me for the all you may not see,
And hold me close for what I want to be.