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Our Blessed Mothers

[Click for the audio version of this email message.]

With an ear to ear mischievous grin, my grandfather used to say, “Every day is Mother’s Day!”

“So true!” I hear the angels echo.

And yet… this is a time of year when many of us are inspired to acknowledge the blessed soul who ushered us into this world. For some of you, this will be easy. For some, it will not… just remember your angels are here to help!  

In celebration of blessed mothering love, I encourage you to pause and reflect on the good things you do remember either with your mum, or with someone who played the role of mother to you.

Take some time this week to mentally log or journal about some of those more precious memories and open your heart in gratitude for the maternal forces in your life.


I am guided to share some of my fondest memories of my mother…she just turned 84. 🙂

When I was a little girl, my mother was the “finder” and the “fixer” in the family. If my dad lost his keys or his wallet, she always knew – often without even looking – where it was. The fire my brother accidentally set in his bedroom? She got it all cleaned up, and with forgiveness in her heart. My lost shoe? She could find it like it had a GPS locator installed in the heel. 

She let me keep the puppy I got at the Providence Animal Rescue League. One weekend after I graduated high school, she’d gone away overnight with my dad and I wanted a puppy. Thankfully “Fang” (or “Count Fangula” if we’re getting formal!) was a prince of a dog and there was no way she could resist his charm.

She let me borrow her car, almost whenever I wanted. She believed it was important for me to visit my friends. Thinking about it now – she probably felt this way because I didn’t have many friends until I was in my teens. Most of my peers thought I was “too sensitive.”

She taught me how to grow tomatoes and laughed when I picked off the “buds” instead of the “bugs!” 

She emphasized the importance of reading and hated television (still does!)

She didn’t scold me when she discovered I’d rummaged through her things. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I just wanted to know more about her. She was the center of my entire existence, my first experience of unconditional love. I needed to know all… I knew something had changed when I started to find new types of items on her dresser – the little stones, branches, pine cones, etc… were tokens I didn’t quite understand and later learned were artifacts she collected when she went on excursions with my now stepfather.

She followed along without missing a beat when I pretended to be a mouse hiding in the backseat on a short drive. “I think there’s a mouse in this car! What should we do?” she would exclaim to whoever was sitting in front with her.

She corrected my grammar and impressed me with the importance of family heritage.

She let me keep the cats – even the naughty ones – and supported me when I decided to surrender one of them after it pooped on my bureau. 

She waited patiently to pick me up from school every afternoon. My whole heart would swell when I saw her car parked on the street. There, just for me. On warm days, she even let me get a raspberry snow cone from the ice cream truck. Sometimes if my brothers weren’t with us, we would join together in “This Land is Your Land” on a merry ride home.

Sooooo many wonderful memories are flooding in as I pause to remember… A beautiful exercise (thank you angels!) in honor of a beautiful woman who taught me how to sing, to be joyful, to be me.


Here she is last weekend at her birthday party with our son, Theron… Love! 


This morning when I spoke with her, my “finder/fixer” mum was exasperated because she’d been looking for the key to her filing cabinet. Last time after locking it, she decided to “hide it” so no one could find it and break into her personal records…apparently, even herself.

The trouble with her dementia is that while she had the presence of mind to safeguard her belongings, she wasn’t also cognizant of the fact that she doesn’t remember many things, especially details. Great idea. Wrong person to execute it.

The “center of my existence” has expanded to include Peter, my children, my father and my brother, yet my mother will always be “my first.” It’s hard to see her regress to the cognitive ability of a child, but at the same time, she’s still with us and we’re able to connect as mother/daughter and share our lives with each other in many joyful moments. She just can’t be trusted with the details…and keys! 😉   

I love you Maman!


Enjoy this day with your loved ones and celebrate the mothers in your life with your angels!

With love,

Rev. Elvia Nina

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