Many years ago, I used to go to “church camp.” This was an annual, week-long event put on by the Unitarian Universalist Association for young adults aged 18 – 35. It was called OPUS (nope, oddly enough, that’s not another UU acronymn, just its name). I went to OPUSes all over the US and Canada.
In the mornings we all did workshops. One year I did poetry. On the first day the assignment was to begin writing a poem with “Mother, I forgot to tell you . . .”
I remember I made a new friend that day. The young man next to me had written something powerful about his mother that deeply affected him, and he bawled for a long a time. I was so impressed that a man could express himself freely and cry like that. I wanted to be friends with someone who was not afraid of the vulnerable side of himself. I’m still friends with Joel, who is a UU in Portland, OR.
Vulnerabilities surround us now. There are times I just want my mommy to hold me and not let go. We need lots of hugs right now, and it’s good to hug yourself if you can’t get a hug from another.
Although Mothers Day started off as a Hallmark holiday, this year it seems to have even more special meaning. Mothers are the source of life. As we reflect on everything that truly matters in these dark times, I invite you to think about your mom, and what you might have forgotten to tell her. If you like, you may share it with us this Sunday. Just email me at email@example.com.
See you Sunday!