The Mother of All Holidays
Whoever decided Mother’s Day should be on Sunday was not LDS.
This is the one day a week when every family member has to be cleaned and dressed up better than usual and arrive somewhere all at the same time, preferably on time and be prepared to fulfill whatever collective callings and you have for church that day.
While other mothers are perusing around a chocolate fondue fountain at the local bistro’s Mother’s Day brunch buffet and using their gift cards to break the sabbath at the mall, we’re slapping Sunbeams around while a raw roast sits in the crock pot we forgot to turn on back home.
And let us not forget the crown jewel of the day, the glowing tributes to motherhood in sacrament meeting, such as the one given in my ward one lovely May day.
A young man paid homage to his mother’s sacrifice of giving him life with a dazzling description of his emergency c-section birth where he “got ripped from his mother’s belly like gutting a fish.” He then acknowledged his mother’s many responsibilities with this lovely gem, “My mother is always running around like a head with its chicken cut off.”
I’m sure this fine young man meant for the fish guts and missing chicken to be some sort of gift of appreciation for his mom. I’m sure she sat in the audience with tears in her eyes, so proud that she raised a son with such vivid storytelling and memorable quote-making abilities.
So, on that special holiday each year I’ll offer a heartfelt “Happy Mother’s Day” to moms everywhere! Here’s hoping you don’t come home to a cold roast, that your chicken remains securely adhered to your head, and that you don’t feel like a gutted fish.