My mom

Lately, I've been asking myself, "What would I do without my mom?".

At age twenty-seven, I still need her so much, for so many things. More than she knows, and I know way more than I know, too.  She's not only a best friend, but an always friend, no matter what. Who would I call to ask how many ounces are in a cup, or how to cook squash, and when do I know my peppers are ready to pick, and what to do when my babies are sick?

She's always right there, anytime, day or night, willing to listen, willing to chat when I'm lonely, willing to come when I need her, willing to offer advice, understanding differing opinions, understanding growth. She knows how to be patient and sympathetic and kind. And what I've learned over the last three and a half years since I've become a mother myself, is that once you make that decision to become one, you are a mother forever.

Remember when I said I had realized motherhood never really gets easier, just different as time goes on? I believe it. I also believe that our specific stages of life, as well as the time frames of those stages, are both so intentional. Heavenly Father knows His young moms need their moms, and his seasoned mothers need their grandbabies, and his sweet silver mothers need quiet. It's all so fine-tuned and perfect.

I don't know well how to make pecan pie, or what exactly to do for earaches, but I know someone who does. And I love her. A lot.