This mother's day we wanted to attend my mom's ward with her. This does require all of us to be ready for church about 45 minutes earlier, which we actually managed to do. It was a Mother's Day Miracle!!
I was so looking forward to sitting with her in church, listening to the talks that are meant to praise and uplift those of us who happen to be the women folk. Her ward was once my ward, as well. So, it is also nice to go and see familiar faces and be amazed at how kids who used to be in Young Women's are now wives and mothers.
Hudson, however, had other plans. You see, my mom's ward is more of a grown up ward. Even when the Primary sang, there were more teachers than kids. What this means is that you can
actually hear a pin drop at all times during Sacrament Meeting. Someone happened to drop a pin at one point, and all heads turned to see who had dared disrupt the quiet. Really.
The ward that we belong to now has more kids than adults. What this means is that our ward sounds like an orphanage on fire. That is what we are used to. You couldn't hear an elephant parade in our ward. One happened to pass through during sacrament (although it may have just been a bunch of the 9 year old boys) and nobody thought anything of it.
I thought I was prepared for this new experience of actually being able to listen in church. I had goldfish crackers, 4 packages of yo-gos that I had unwrapped and put into a container, water in a sippy, quiet toys, and Bo, Grandma, Tracy, and Scott. This was nothing compared to the firecracker that is Hudson.
I have to tell you that Hudson has this amazing heaven given talent of the ear piercing shriek - which he does when he is happy, sad, or just wondering if he still can. It can break glass. It can rupture eardrums that are within 10 feet. Sometimes he opens his mouth and, although I cannot hear anything, dogs in the neighborhood begin arriving at our front door. Mariah Carey has even called to get some pointers from him. He's got me feeling emotion, deeper than I've ever dreamed of.
He decided that the best time to let this loose was at the completely quietest part of the meeting. I think he had it all calculated and was waiting for his moment. We tried stuffing handfuls of strawberry marshmallows (thanks Bo) in his chipmunk cheeks. Nope, no match. I picked him up and shoved the sippy in his mouth. Nothin' doin'. The goldfish crackers only made the shriek become accompanied by crunch, crunch, crunch. When the people in the row in front of us started to wince and check their ears for blood, I had to take him out.
So much for the talks and the company of mom. I was out wandering the halls while Hudson wanted up, wanted down, cried because I put him down, and then squirmed because I picked him up.
But, really, it was just fine. Just being in the same building that I used to be with her every Sunday was lovely. People came up and were astonished at how big the kids had gotten. When we were living there back in pioneer times, we only had one little tiny baby in the form of Abigail. One of the old bishopric members came up to Abigail and said "You are so big now! And you get to have her as your grandma! You are so lucky!" I loved that. She
is so lucky. And nobody really got mad that Hudson had made some of the old timers change the frequency on their hearing aides. Which was nice, too.
At the end of the day, just a few minutes with mom is good enough. She is really amazing. My ultimate example. How she managed 4 kids with such patience, love, and individual attention mystifies me. She took us all to the store and managed to come back out with all of us. This is something I am still working on. She handmade all of our most favorite clothes. I can barely manage to
find our clothes. I look back on our wonderful, enchanting childhood and am in awe of her every single day. She could do it all, and in the meantime did no wrong. She could give us all the time in the world, and still manage to have her own friends, develop her own talents, and cultivate her creativity.
Sometimes I feel a little guilty that my kids are getting the shaft. There is absolutely no way that I can live up to her example. I promise them to try to be at least half the mom that she is, and I know that they will be amazingly blessed with just that. Even half of what she can do is still an astonishing feat in motherhood.
Even now, when we should be taking care of her, she is still making sure that our needs are met before hers. Birthdays are still marked with the same attention. Holiday details are all taken care of. Grandchildren are still held in her lap and story after story after story is read.
I know a quote from Katharine Hathaway that describes her to a tee:
"Everybody knows that a good mother gives her children a feeling of trust and stability. She is their earth. She is the one they can count on for the things that matter most of all. She is their food and their bed and the extra blanket when it grows cold in the night; she is their warmth and their health and their shelter; she is the one they want to be near when they cry. She is the only person in the whole world in a whole lifetime who can be these things to her children. There is no substitute for her."
This is her. This is my mom. I'm so glad to have her, and glad that I am blessed enough to try to exemplify her every single day. What a remarkable thing to be a mother and have a mother like her to look to for inspiration, comfort, and approval. I am so lucky, too.
