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Thank You, Mom

by Bev Berens

Published: Friday, May 11, 2018

Moms. We may not all be a Mom, but we all have one. Someone, somewhere, biological or adoptive—whether official or in name only—looked at us, fell in love and became Mom.

You fed us, bathed us and kept us in clothes and shoes. More often than not, our wardrobes were handed down from siblings, cousins, neighbors and anyone else who might pass along what they had to share.

You were frugal and taught us to be the same. From washing and reusing plastic storage bags and aluminum foil to creating tasty meals when the cupboard and refrigerator looked bare, you never let us go hungry.

You held our hand, answered our questions, patched up scrapes with red stinging stuff that was either a get better or die potion, and read the same books to us over and over and one more time—just for good measure.

You were chauffeur, seamstress and biblical mentor all rolled into one. You reassured and kept us calm in the storms of life and the storms that made us race for shelter in the basement.

We laughed, we cried, we learned, and we are rich with childhood memories.

Then we grew up, made our own lives with our own families. We fed, bathed, clothed and loved by what we learned from you. We were frugal, we patched up scrapes and cuts, we read, we chauffeured, we taught, we listened, we answered questions and we calmed through the darkest night and the wildest storms.

We laughed, we cried, we learned and we made memories with children of our own.

All the time, you were still Mom, and Grandma, too; independent and reluctant to ask for help. But eventually, lately, something started to change. You are still in love with us, your children, and grandchildren. But now, it is you who has questions—lots of them—and needs help choosing what to wear. It is you who needs tasty meals, a chauffeur, reassurance, and someone to hold your hand. It is you who needs to be calmed through this big, dark storm on the tail end of life.

Not all of us have the privilege of thanking our moms in this way. Some moms leave early. Some have a different storm to walk through. And some leave without their children ever having the chance to say goodbye.

But if you do have the privilege of sharing that long, last walk, try to think of it as a time to thank mom for all she has done for you by doing the same for you and not as a burden that simply must be ridden out.

Thank you, Mom, for all you do and for all you did. May our care be the gift of thanks you deserve.

Bev Berens is a freelance writer and FFA parent from Holland, Mich. She can be contacted at

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