We Are in Our Mothers' Hands

Hand in hand

Mother Earth

 This black and white image bespeaks a lifetime of help and devotion. Is is my mother's hard-working hand in mine just three hours before she cast off her mortal coil. Though ravaged by Parkinson's to the point she could no longer even swallow, Mom remained steadfast in love. When I told her good bye and I loved her, I felt the slightest tightening of that hand, a final squeeze to tell me she heard, she understood,  and her 63 years of unconditional love continued.Such is the fierce love our mothers bring to the world, their gift to us, a gift we can only repay by passing it on to others.It may be inappropriate for me to fill this space -- normally reserved for topics of the outdoor lifestyle we all cherish -- with personal tributes to my Mom, but I don't think so. My tribute is your tribute. This is to honor moms everywhere, the mothers that made possible our wild adventures, made possible the joys we've felt during our discoveries of the Natural world that nurtures us all. We don't call her Mother Earth for nothing.Whether your mother has gone, is fading or remains hale and hearty, take a moment to reflect on what she has done for you, what she has done to make it possible for you to become the man or woman you are. And then thank her. Don't wait for Mother's Day. Don't wait for her birthday. Don't wait until she is at death's door. Tell her now, tell her often and make her proud.In closing, I want to thank family, friends and readers of this blog for the outpouring of empathy, love and support shown our family upon Mom's passing. Such generosity of spirit renews one's hope for the human race. The hunting community is full of wonderful, caring people. Thank you, and God bless.# # #