"Think of me as your mommy."

When I got sick as a kid, Mom gave me milk toast awash in butter and hot milk. I loved my mom's milk toast. I've never been able to duplicate it.

I was a lucky child, with a great mom. The only time she held a paying job was while my father fought overseas during WWII. In those days we lived with Mom's parents in Iowa City. She worked as a librarian at Horace Mann School, where I attended and also received the deep cut on my forehead that left a still visible scar.

Horace Mann had a two-inch foot-scraper blade set about 14 inches below a wide brass rail. We kids walked on that rail. It tested our balance, courage and sheer folly.

One day I fell, landing on the blade with my forehead. I remember lots of blood and a bad headache, but my optic nerve survived.

Mom rushed me off to the doctor, nursed me to recovery and worried about that bright pink scar. For several years when she looked at my face she'd say, "Joanie, I just wish we could do something about that scar."

She consulted a plastic surgeon, but Dad talked her out of it.

After I married I missed my mom. When she died I was bereft. For a month I was in shock, just going through the motions.

Mom represented security, stability and goodness to me. The world felt sadly different without her. For one thing, I immediately lost the sound of her voice in my head.

It had always been present, soothing, comforting and correcting. The moment she died her voice disappeared.

Then one day I caught the flu. The real, terrible influenza that can kill millions and every so often evades the vaccine planners. All I could do was lie in bed and sleep.

Lowell came to my bedside with a bowl of chicken soup, intent on feeding me. I could hardly understand what he was doing or saying.

"Think of me as your mommy," he said, smiling and holding out the spoon.

That did it. I took the soup and felt a little better. I think it was his words even more than the soup that affected me.

Think of me as your mommy. What a kind and thoughtful thing to say. He brought the spirit of a loving mother to me. In some subtle way it changed our relationship and brought us closer.

I've had several friends over the years who had mothers who somehow weren't up to the challenges of motherhood. When this happens, everybody suffers.

Fortunately such mothers aren't common.

Most mothers I know are terrific. Whether they work for pay or are stay-at-home moms like my daughters and daughter-in-law, their primary focus is on their children.

A good mom is the purest form of blessing. She gets her children started right and teaches them love, which to me is the most important force in the world.

God bless all mothers and mommy substitutes.

Happy Mother's Day.

Joan Uda is a retired United Methodist minister who lives in Lewis and Clark County. Her e-mail is joanuda@yahoo.com