My Mother hasn't had a hot meal for herself in over 15 years...

Although for my mother, it has probably been longer.

I was gently reprimanded by the host of my Thanksgiving dinner for not blogging for an eternity (Happy Birthday, btw, Auntie), so I have spent the last few days puzzling until my puzzler was sore trying to come up with something somewhat interesting--at least to me--to blog about.
Then it hit me. I should write about gratitude--'tis the season--, or at the very least, what for the which I am grateful. Thanks to recent events, and a fantastic conversation with her, I am ridiculously--indebted for the eternities--grateful for my mother.

The aforementioned conversation was as follows: I was feeling some woe about a topic not wished to be shared, and I turned to the all-knowing being, Mom, to help me resolve it. (Or at least vent about it because I don't have the courage to stand strong). After laying it on the line she shared with me a deeply personal story that I hope she doesn't kill me for sharing with you now:

(Necessary backstory)There was a time in my life when my actions were less than admirable and I was accustomed to making decisions that were far from wise. At this time I told my mother I was going to move out. I was moving to the big city (downtown) and there was nothing she could do about it. (On a side note, the apartment I was going to move in to was the most disgusting old building you can imagine in a clean place like Salt Lake City. While the Sup was showing us the place, I saw an overturned dead cockroach the size of a premature baby on the floor in the kitchen, but that wasn't going to stop me from my rebellion.)

My mother and I exchanged words about this decision, which only made me want to move out more, but eventually she came around and said if I wanted to do it I could do it (Thankfully the young lady I was going to move in with was a flake and things fell through--act of God? Perhaps--but I digress).

(Conversation)For the first time in over six years, my mother finally shared with me why she had a major change of heart. She said that during that time period she was reading her scriptures, looking for an answer to her prayers on the matter, and she was struck with the thought of what it was like for our Heavenly Mother in the premortal existence. As we as spirits prepared to enter this mortal realm, she probably thought(she being my mother in the shoes of our Heavenly Mother), "Can't I keep this one with me? She's such a sweet spirit, can't I keep her all to myself?" To the which she had to conclude, "No. As much as it hurts, I have to let her go. I have to let her make her own decisions, and I have to let her go to earth to learn. That's what this plan is all about."

My mother realized that although she was quite certain that I was making a huge mistake and was likely to end up hurt, she had to let me go. As much as it pained her(she said that at times the decisions we children make actually cause her to feel as though her heart is literally breaking), she had to allow me to make my own decisions.

All this leads me to my point, I swear. On this day, as I am on most days, I am thankful for a mother who was willing to let me go. I am thankful for a mother who taught me all she knew, and then gave me the opportunity to make my own mistakes, no matter the cost of her own well-being. I am thankful for a mother who is a shining example of a disciple of Christ, who is selfless and all around incredible.

I am who I am today, albeit with countless bumps, bruises and stupid mistakes along the way, because my mother let me.

This post is dedicated to you, Mom. Love you!