“Few of us will reach our potential without the nurturing of both the mother who bore us and the mothers who bear with us…

“Every time we build the faith or reinforce the nobility of a young woman or man, every time we love or lead anyone even one small step along the path, we are true to our endowment and calling as mothers and in the process we build the kingdom of God.” Sherry L. Dew

 Our thoughts and hearts are turned to mothers today. For me, today’s thoughts are much like the last few weeks’ reflections, since things have settled down a little for me and I’ve felt my mom often near me. I think of her with sweet longing, miss her with aching heart, and regret lost opportunities with anguish. Mostly, I feel her happiness, for herself and for me. What a tender mercy to know there is peace and happiness after the troubles and trial of this life.

My musings also include my daughter, who’s about to bring her fourth child into this crazy world. It’s scary for me, even though I know the plan of happiness, which was designed and is directed by our Father in Heaven. I’m in awe of the faith and courage she exhibits in welcoming a new little one to her busy, complicated, overflowing-with-life household. I know these valiant children are coming to help gather Israel and prepare the world for the Second Coming of the Savior; they’ll be armed, just like each of us have been, with all they’ll need.

Today I’m also truly thankful for grandmothers, aunts, sisters, daughters, counselors, and dear, dear friends who have mothered me, whether it be difficult days or delightful ones, when I’ve needed nurturing and someone with whom to share. One mother isn’t able to fulfill all those needs in her child, though that is likely her fondest wish. I’m thankful God is way ahead of us and provides us “a village” of loving women, from all walks of life, to listen, understand, encourage, and even call us out when we need it. They teach us by their example, comfort us with their embraces, and strengthen us through their faith. They remind us we matter.

There have been many such women throughout my life.

• Grandmas and Auntie Jo spoiling me and reminding me I’m special
• Family friends and babysitting families, when I was young, watching and learning from their mothering
• Seminary teachers and youth leaders, I admired as a teen
• Friends who reached out and stuck around, in young motherhood, even though I barely had time or energy for a phone conversation (before texting existed)
• Counselors who care, beyond the job, who hear me, teach me, and help me forgive and love myself
• Daughters, any age, who are friends, confidants, and great snuggle buddies
• Friends, young or old, with children or without children, married or single, I’ve met and gathered through life’s changes and challenges, who offer their shoulders to cry on and their hearts to hold me
• Sisters, sweet sisters, who see the best in me, stick by me, and believe in me no matter what

It’s humbling to consider all the women who’ve influenced and blessed me, and who continue to be a strength to me as I walk through the rest of my life without my own mother by my side. I wish I could name every single one of them, many who are still here and still fill my heart with love, but I would inevitably leave someone out, so I won’t name names, but I pray they know who they are. I’m grateful. I feel loved. Thank you.

My last contemplation on this Mother’s Day is the blessing of knowing that I have a Heavenly Mother. I think of Her often. I imagine Her to be perfected in all that I, as a mother, aspire to. I’m sure she is the most tender, gentle, wise, compassionate, loving, patient, nurturing, strong, capable, brave, faithful, and hopeful woman we could imagine. Like my own earthly mother, I’m sure She watches over me and believes in me. It’s sweet to think on these things on this Mother’s Day.

“In the heav’ns are parents single?

No, the thought makes reason stare!

Truth is reason; truth eternal

Tells me I’ve a mother there.”

Eliza R. Snow

Happy Mother’s Day to all women, and especially my incredible village. I love you.

Visit Hilary Weeks’ website here to hear a beautiful song, “Mama You Matter.”

This week I’ve had the blessing of reminiscing about the life of my dear Mother, Jackie McEwen, and the influence she’s had on me and my family. I don’t remember much when I was very little, but recently when going through old photos, I found pictures of Mom with us girls, when we were young. Mom told me many times how much she loved being pregnant and having a tiny baby. (She made it sound easy and fun.) She was excited and happy for each of her three children to join her family. I was especially touched by the pictures of her down on the floor with us.

I remember going shopping at Kmart with Mom. She loved to shop and buy clothes for her girls. That’s where I first learned about “layaway.” We had some fun dates to get our hair cut, too. Afterward, we’d go downtown and have corned beef on rye at our favorite deli, or barbeque sandwiches at Love’s.

Mom was smart and witty, with a great sense of humor. She was fun to be around. She listened to Credence Clearwater Revival, The Grass Roots, and lots of country music, including Kenny Rogers and Crystal Gayle. Once, when we were young adults, we all went to an Oak Ridge Boys’ concert. We had fun singing, “Giddy up oom poppa omm poppa mow mow.” She used to listen to the music loud in the car and push the brake pedal to the beat. She liked hosting neighborhood parties and dancing on the back patio. Our high school friends liked Mom and thought she was cool.

Mom enjoyed vacationing. She and Dad went on several cruises and always came back happy and tan. They also made it to Hawaii once. Mom’s favorite vacation has always been staying at the beach in Carpinteria. I have fond memories of many years of beach trips, with the whole family, including Grandma and Grandpa. Sometimes we stayed at the condos right on the sand; we just climbed three steps and were on the beach! It was such a fun and carefree time for us girls, and we got to spend a lot of time with Mom and Dad up there. Grandma would make chili or tacos, with root beer. We’d walk to “The Spot” for hamburgers and up the street to the drugstore for treats. Grandpa loved sitting up on the beach in the evenings and was so happy and peaceful there.

Mom continued to love the beach more than any other place on earth. She went every year until she left us. Her cousin, Pam, shared that passion with her, and they spent many vacations up there together. In the last few years, we all enjoyed time up there with her, keeping watch over her, including her sister, Jo, and her cousin, Vikki.  Mom had just been to Carpinteria a couple of months before her illness. My sister, Kris, spent a week with her, as she always loved doing, and my other sister, Heidi, was able to join her for the first time.  It was a tender blessing for them to have that special time together.

Mom was close with her own family. She spent a lot of time with her parents and brother and sister. We spent many holidays and Christmases all together, with yummy food, Grandma’s homemade treats, and presents all over the place. Auntie Jo had a pool, and there was always fun and hilarity at family gatherings.

Mom and Grandma took us girls on trips to Washington to see the great grandparents and great aunts and uncles. One time we took the train, which was really fun and exciting. I remember having a bag of things to do, like word puzzles and books. In Olympia, Washington, where they lived, we ran all around their huge wooded property and rode in a golf-cart-like vehicle. Sometimes it snowed! They had a cow, which was a novelty to us city kids. One year when we were there, Kris had a horrible allergy attack from the hay and couldn’t breathe. Another time, I was sleep walking in the middle of the night and fell down the stairs. We were both fine, but now I think, poor Mom! That must have been terrifying. The family there played cards, which Mom loved. Pinochle was her favorite, and they played for hours at a time while we were visiting. I sat and watched the grown-ups while they played.  I learned how to play, as a teenager, and sometimes they let me join in.  These last few years, Mom occasionally joined the kids and I for card games. The kids were surprised and amused at her competitive nature and sassiness during the games.  She played for fun, but wanted to win!

Mom was epically good at ping-pong. She had a unique way of holding her paddle, and she was incredibly consistent. She just got every ball back. Dad was so good at all sports, that he found it a little hard to constantly lose to Mom at ping-pong. There’s an infamous story of Mom once again beating him and hearing the paddle clatter against the door just after she walked through on her way out.

When we were kids, Mom worked a lot. She was very conscientious and took responsibilities seriously. She was talented at her job as a keypunch operator. She was lightning-fast. She and Dad ran their own business for a while. Grandma used to come and stay with us, during that time, in a room downstairs. I loved when she came. I missed my mom when she worked, but now I realize how much she did, working all day then coming home and making dinner, helping with homework and school stuff, and all the other things we needed. Mom continued to work until we were grown. She worked so hard, and worried so much, she eventually had a kind of mental breakdown and couldn’t work anymore. That’s when the second half of her life began.

It took a long time for Mom to recover from the stress she’d been under. Dad took over everything and began taking care of Mom in a different and tender way. I think it helped him that she needed him more, and he rose to the occasion. We’ve always been thankful he was so good to our mom. He adored her and would do anything for her. He called her his “sweet companion” and his “Dearie Face.”

Mom was a sports fan. She and Dad enjoyed watching all kinds of sporting events together. She never missed the Olympics. Her all-time favorite sport to watch was tennis, and Dad was a good sport about letting her have her idols, like Edberg and Federer. He even let her hang a poster of Edberg in the garage and “I heart Federer” stickers here and there.  They had a great time attending a tournament in Palm Springs a few times. After Dad died, Mom said she really missed discussing and watching the sports stuff with him.

Mom loved being “Gramma.” She totally embraced that role and it brought her so much joy. Her email was Grammaof12 and she had Gramma stuff all over her room. She adored the babies. The majority of the photos I have are pictures of Mom with the grandchildren. She read thousands of books to them, let them spend the night, attended their performances and tennis matches, wrote to them on their missions, and wanted to hear all about their lives and adventures. She and Dad were a huge part of their lives, especially when they were little.

Mom developed a passion for cross-stitching, after she retired. She had the skills and the patience to do the most intricate patterns. She made hundreds of beautiful projects and hung them all over her house. Doing that work with her hands helped her be calm and feel productive. She worked on projects up until her last month, when her brain would no longer do that anymore. About that time, I sat with her and helped her get the threads all labeled and ready, and watched as she tried to work on a new project.  She had trouble, but she didn’t get upset. She stitched and tore out one section several times.  She just kept at it. She didn’t complain or get frustrated. She told me that when she was younger, she used to get really upset if something went wrong, but she learned to just expect it and know that she could go back and fix it. Last year she did a project with a cute little grandma and grandpa.  After completing the entire piece, which was pretty big, she decided she didn’t love the color scheme, so she chose her own colors and did the entire project again.  It turned out beautifully. Near the end of her life, she moved her hands when she was kind of somewhere else in her mind. One time I asked her what she was holding (because her finger and thumb were touching) and she said, “The needle.” Immediately I could see, in her motions, that she was stitching and pulling on the thread. She was still cross-stitching in her head right up to the end. I love that.

Mom liked puzzles—all kinds. She sometimes did jigsaw puzzles and had stretches of time where she’d do tons of crossword puzzles. Later in life, she learned to do sudoku puzzles and liked the quick little challenge of those. I got her a couple of easy sudoku books when she was sick, and she could still work those until the last weeks. She would get a little frustrated that her brain wouldn’t work the way it used to, but she kept a good sense of humor about it. She’d say, “It’s taking me all day to do this puzzle!” but she kept at it. I think her love of puzzles kept her brain strong. Until the last few days, she was alert and would smile and joke with us. Until the very end, she knew us still, and heard our words of love and gratitude.

The things mom loved-she really loved!  Tennis, giraffes, Tweety bird, cross-stitch, and most of all her family. She thought about her family all the time. She was a worrier and prayed for her loves constantly. She missed her sweetheart every day.  After Dad died, Mom learned to love and appreciate him so much more. She shared, many times, that she wished she’d let the little annoyances and differences go when he was still here. The beautiful part was, she loved him better each passing year and wanted to be with him more than ever. During her last week, she wanted me to be with her all the time. When she woke, she would call for me.  Sometimes, she would call, “Jenny?…Daddy?” I knew she was calling for my Dad, who she called “Daddy” or “Grandpa.” I know he’s been close by all these years, but especially during these last hard months. I felt like Mom was torn between her love for family here and family on the other side.  On a particularly hard day she said, “I bet Grandpa’s getting excited that I’m coming soon.”

Mom and I had talks about dying and what it meant. She knew I thought leaving this life and going to Heaven was the best thing ever. She said she didn’t know if she felt the same way about it because we all talked about Dad going on and continuing his work on the other side.  She didn’t want to go to work; she was so worn out.  I shared with her the scripture in Alma 40:11-12,

“…the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body…whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life. And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow.”

She liked the sound of that. She had a firm faith in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Her grandparents taught her about Jesus when she was little, and she’d always believed in Him. She loved having pictures of Jesus around her, especially the last few weeks. She did several detailed cross stitch projects of the Savior. In the last one she completed, His hands reached out to her.  She asked us to hang that where she could see it from her bed. She loved Him and knew He loved her.

We were blessed to be able to say goodbye to Mom gradually, much in the same way we did with Dad. We were given the opportunity to serve her and show her how much she’s loved. She became very sweet and childlike during her last months. She was extra loving and grateful, telling us all how much she loved us. It was a sweet and tender blessing to see this side of her heart and feel that connection and closeness before she left us. Though there’s a giant hole in our lives where our Mom was, we’re thankful her pain and worldly cares are over. We’re joyful that Mom and Dad are no longer apart and can be together forever.

Because of our Savior, Jesus Christ, we can live again with our families, when this life is over. It’s not the end. I know this is true—I’ve felt my sweet parents comforting me and lending me strength. Their love still lives on. We celebrated the gift of Christ’s atonement, resurrection, and eternal life as we saw mom’s body, but not her spirit, placed in the ground with Dad’s, to come forth again in the resurrection. Families can be together forever.

“He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces.” Isaiah 25:8

Early Saturday morning, February 8, 2020, I sat by my Mom’s side, holding her hand, speaking softly of eternity, and singing “Families Can be Together Forever,” as she moved from this earthly life of care to a far sweeter one with Jesus. Many times, in the last few weeks, we talked of my dad, waiting for his “Sweetie Face” on the other side. We discussed Mom’s parents, and other family members, and how happy they’d be to see her. We considered together the blessing of resting from her cares, worries, and responsibilities, which she took seriously. We spent time with my sweet sisters, and laughed and reminisced about the precious gift of family, and the cherished memories we hold on to forever. We gazed at the painting of Jesus by the shore, hung on the wall directly in front of her bed, and anticipated His loving embrace.

As my sisters and I made this sweet and sorrowful journey with our dear mother, I felt the Spirit teaching and strengthening me. I had so much to learn. I struggled, every day, nearly every minute, to give up the illusion of control, and give it all to the Lord. Because I was taking care of Mom at our home, and hospice nurses and aides only came a couple of times a week, I was responsible for most of Mom’s care. Her disease progressed so rapidly, we had a day or two of feeling we’d gotten the pain under control and were stable, then there’d be a dramatic change for the worse, that threw us into chaos and fear. I fiercely tried to control what was happening, to help her and ease her pain. I tried to find the right meds, the right position, the right equipment, and the right help to keep her from further suffering.

My will was for my elderly, fragile, dear mother not to suffer. My human thinking was that pain is “bad” and “senseless” and “unkind.” My limited understanding caused my constant pleading that she would be spared, protected, released. When those agonizing prayers weren’t immediately answered, I sometimes questioned if I was important to God, after all. I forgot, in the darkest moments, that giving up my will, and turning everything over to the One who loves me most and uses everything for my good, is the way to find peace. I talked to God all day, every day. He was the One I knew understood. And still I hurt. I questioned. I wanted God’s love to be manifested in MY will. Instead, His wisdom, His generosity, His mercy, were made manifest through my broken acceptance of HIS will.

Satan never gives up, never sleeps. He’s in those battles. He worked on me sleepless night after sleepless night. He knew I’d be weaker, more vulnerable to his unrelenting attacks, but I wasn’t defenseless. Besides my constant prayers, each day I was committed to studying the Book of Mormon. I’d torn out the page, in the front of the Come Follow Me manual, with the promises of prophets, about reading the Book of Mormon daily, and stuck it on my bookcase. I clung to those promises, and the many blessings and witnesses I’d received, throughout my life, of the love and kindness of my Savior. I fought back, armed with His word and my testimony, until I could hand over my will, fully, thankfully, to the One who already bore all the suffering my mom and I were enduring.

Because of our Savior, Jesus Christ, I have peace and joy, along with the grief of temporary parting. His atonement and resurrection make it possible for families to be sealed together for eternity. I’ve had the sacred gift of being by the side of both my parents as they made the transition from this life to the next. I’ve felt the sweetness of death, as another birth, with similar pain, suffering, and hard work, followed by inexpressible joy and gratitude. I’ve felt the Spirit witness of life before, and life after, this one. I know I’ll see my mom and dad again, when it’s time, and they will be close by until then. I know my Redeemer lives and loves me. He never abandoned me, but stayed by my side, by Mom’s side, teaching, strengthening, and carrying it with us.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Psalm 23