On the sweetness of Mormon life:
Our Mother’s Days aren’t holidays for women who are mothers. They are holiday for sons and daughters and husbands, who need a socially acceptable day for sentiment.
A nine-year old cub scout sang a solo. The burliest guy in the ward, giving the final talk, admitted he was a mamma’s boy. Bishop sua sponte got up to tell us that his (deceased) mother refusing to go to church when she wasn’t well, because she didn’t want people to ask “how are you.” This was peculiar, he said. The unspoken point was you can love someone to the point of cherishing their peculiarities. Bishop also sua sponte asked his wife to come up to close the meeting with a few words. When she got close he tried to say what he wanted her to talk about but he started to leak tears instead and ended up choking out a few things about her. She waited, then told us that the four stages of motherhood were being the world to your children, being an embarrassment, praying all the time for your children, and marrying them off. God had given her relatively decent kids, she said, and if we knew otherwise please not to let her know.
Next year my mother and my wife will not ask for a meal that includes flour gravy.