Mother, mom, ma, mamma, mommie, or mum…..I called my mother “mother”. So did my sister. Our brothers called her “mom”. When I was younger, I called her “mommie”.

One time when I was in Cracker Barrel, a framed quote caught my attention as I made my way through the gift shop to the restaurant. I loved it so much that I copied it down:

“Mother…she not only gives us life, she teaches our souls to sing”. How beautiful and oh so true, I thought to myself.

That passage reminded me of another quote hanging in my house. Several years ago, my sister, mother, and I were on our annual mother-daughter summer jaunt. After visiting the Field of Dreams in Dyersville, Iowa, we stopped at Country Junction Restaurant, a country-style restaurant and gift shop. My mother had given us spending money for a trip memento. I found the perfect gift to honor my mother, our trip, and our precious time together.

“All that I am or hope to be I owe to my mother”—Abe Lincoln. The quote was embroidered on small pieces of red and tan gingham and displayed in a rustic frame.

Then we have the mother’s perspective in the following quotes: “Before you were conceived I wanted you. Before you were born I loved you. Before you were here an hour I would die for you. This is the miracle of love.”—Maureen Hawkins

“When you were small and just a touch away, I covered you with blankets against the cold night air. But now that you are tall and out of reach, I fold my hands and cover you with prayer.”—Dona Maddux Cooper

This is my first Mother’s Day without mother. I fold my hands and send her a prayer–” Thank you for teaching my soul to sing. May God keep you always in His loving embrace.” My precious memories of my dear mother will sustain me today. I found this poem that reminds me of my mother. Lilacs were her favorite sping flower.

Memories by Mildred M. North

Again the lilac blossoms sway
Above the windowsill,
And every white or purple spray
Exotic perfume spills.

Again the orchard rows are sweet
With drifts of blossom snow,
And every breath of fragrance fleet
Brings thoughts of long ago.

So clear, so precious, memory sees
The old home, Mother dear,
And lilac blooms and apple trees–
The joys of yesteryear.

Bountiful Blessings!