On my last birthday I turned 32, making me the same age as my mom. Over the past year, I've reflected often on what kind of woman she must have been, how young she truly was when we lost her, and how my entire life has been shaped by her death. Sometimes I still feel as lost as that eight-year-old little girl. But only sometimes.
When our Heavenly Father decided to call her home, He didn't leave me alone. While I will never feel like I can write a fitting tribute to the remarkable woman that I never really knew, I can celebrate the beautiful women who, one after another, have honored her as they stood in her place.
To my sister, Kelly: Sixteen is so young to have the weight of the world placed on your shoulders, yet without hesitation you stepped in to fill the roll of not only big sister, but also mother to your two younger siblings. I know life hasn't always been easy for you, but somehow you've pressed on, plowing forward when others would have given up. You've been one of my best friends for more years than I can count, and even when we've sailed through turbulent waters together, I've never doubted we'd make it through the storm. When I was in fifth grade, and you left home, I was terrified. I didn't want to lose you too. After days of no word, you finally called home to say you were okay. I vividly remember collapsing on the floor in tears. I was so relieved. Years later, you were there to pick up the pieces when I was in ninth grade and somehow my little world was shattered when a kid at my school shot himself after he was suspended for hitting me. Through all the turbulent ups and downs inherent with the high school years, you were always there for me and when at the young age of (gasp) 19 I decided to get married, you stepped in and performed mom's role beautifully. I don't know if I ever really thanked you for that, but I hope you know I'm so grateful for your example and your love.
To my mother-in-law, Jan: I've often wanted to tell you how much you mean to me, but my feelings toward you are difficult to put into words. Over the years I've written countless letters in my head, even rehearsed what I would tell you if the moment presented itself, yet somehow I've never managed to get it right. I guess there are just some emotions that can't be expressed in words. Nevertheless, did you know that in only two short years you'll have been my mom for twice as many years as my own mother was able to be? In that time you've been an example of patience, generosity, long-suffering, honesty, understanding and unconditional love. From you I've learned that nobody's normal, and that's okay. You've taught me that life is always going to be hard and crazy, things never slow down, we're not perfect, we fall short, but we just need to keep moving forward. You've taught me that there is joy in just being together as a family. As your daughter, I've witnessed remarkable acts of wisdom, forgiveness, joy and faith. I'll never forget the moment that you told me that your first thought upon meeting me was "She's home." And I was. Thank you. I feel so privileged to call you "Mom."
To Debbie Mower, my mom's best friend: On the day I learned that my mom wouldn't be coming home, you held me as I clung desperately to your neck and sobbed into your shoulder. You were the only one I wanted to cry to and I never wanted to let go. Eventually you had to go home, but you never forgot about me. On that first Christmas Eve after she was gone, you took me with you to a family party and even at my young age I recognized the lengths that you went to to ease my troubled little heart. Though time and distance have separated us, you will always be dear to my soul.Thank you for your love, your sacrifice and your strength.
To my Aunt Rose: Losing you was like losing mom all over again. After she was gone, you loved us and cared for us as though we were your own. I remember getting you some coffee once and cheerfully telling you that my mom liked her coffee the same way. I will never forget the look of heartache on your face as you tried to smile at me though you tears. On the day we made the video for Aunt Anne, I knew I wanted to be just like you. But, you were taken from me far too soon, and I can't help but feel like I lost not only an aunt, but a woman who would've been one of my best friends. Know that you were loved.
To my Aunt Teri: You have always been one of my favorite women. I remember the thrill of knowing you were coming to Utah to visit. You are beautiful, kind and filled with so much love and patience. When we went to Michigan, more exciting than the trip was the prospect of staying with you. I love you and miss you deeply.
To Cheryl: The first time I met you was at the bowling alley. I don't remember if you were on the same team as my dad or just in the same league, but I loved you instantly. When you asked me if I wanted a kiss I puckered my lips, starved for motherly affection. You only hesitated for a moment before kissing me. Then you laughed and placed a chocolate kiss in my hand. While things didn't work between you and my dad, for several wonderful years you were the closest thing I had to a mother and I will always cherish that beautiful time spent with you as a family. I felt loved every moment of it.
To Peggy Wilmonen: From the time I was three, your house was always a second home to me. Even then you watched out for me, loved me, and sometimes even chastised me when I was out of line. After mom was gone, you continued to watch over me, taking me to dance lessons, driving me home, and countless other small acts of kindness. I didn't appreciate it as much as I should have at the time, but you were always there for me. My childhood is filled with fond memories of the many camping trips with your family. Thank you!
To Traci Barker: You are a rare woman. From you I learned how to love unconditionally. When I was fifteen and taking the missionary discussions, you were there for me, not because you were my Young Women's leader, or because you were my sort-of-boyfriend's mom, but because you loved me and wanted what was best for me. You were my friend and I knew that even if I didn't choose to be baptized, you would love me anyway. Your love was never conditional upon baptism, my friendship with Nick or anything else. For a teenage girl, who often felt lost, confused and alone, the kind of love you offered was priceless.
To Leslie Woodward: Forever in my mind, when I think of the embodiment of motherhood, I think of you. I remember watching in wonder as you were a mother to not only your own kids, but to every child that came close enough for you to dote upon. You taught me that being a mother isn't about having children, it's about loving children.
To Peggy Whitehead: In your home, I discovered what a house dedicated to the Lord should feel like. Not only did you raise daughters who lovingly shared their powerful testimonies with me, you also stood as a spiritual strength and example, teaching them the doctrines of the gospel, guiding them, and me, toward the temple and eternal families. From the moment Jess and I became friends, I felt welcomed into the circle of your family. It was in the confines of your home that I learned how to study the scriptures, pray and have meaningful family home evening. Over the years, as I've struggled to learn the history and doctrines of the gospel, I've always pictured you and your vast array of knowledge and deep, abiding testimony. It was through yours and Jessica's selfless sacrifice, driving twenty miles most Sundays to pick me up for Church, that I learned about loving service. When you took me to buy my temple clothes and lovingly stitched my apron for me, you taught me me to treasure things of a spiritual nature. I determined long ago, that I want to be a spiritual pillar in my family as you have been in yours.
To Tammy King: Thank you for loving me, for being an example to me. When I was seventeen, and often home alone because my dad had to travel for work, you went out of your way to tell me that I was welcome in your home anytime. While I was too shy to take you up on your offer, I determined that like you, my home would always be open to those who need a place to stay.
To Karla Liddell: Thank you for raising the most amazing, beautiful woman that I have ever known. I know that the Lord guided your hand as you raised Ashley, molding her into the kind, generous, fun, discerning woman that she is. She is the best friend I've ever had and she's everything she is because of you. Thank you for adopting me into your family, for showing me how to be a mother through your loving example.
There are countless other women, past and present, who have had a profound impact on helping me become the woman I am today. If I forgot to list you, please know I love you and the impression you've left on my heart isn't lost. Thank you, each and every one of you, for who you are and what you do. It takes a village to raise a child; I'm living proof of that.
Happy Mother's Day!
