What do you say to a friend who no longer speaks to his mother, because of her actions toward him as he has become an adult? My heart wants to tell him that “she’s still your mother, and while she doesn’t nurture you now, she nurtured you at one point.” My head recognizes that sometimes parents and children grow apart, and it’s not always the child’s fault.

devyn–I have also benefited from plenty of male mothering

queuno–I don’t know, exactly. I liked this post at fmh wherein the writer discusses her own rift with her mother and how she has handled that. I think the writer shows a lot of maturity–I am not sure everyone (including me) could forgive what she has frogiven–but the advice that started her on that path might help your friend.

http://www.feministmormonhousewives.org/?p=1784

I don’t know your friend, obviously, but I know when I hear people complain about their moms, it is often with bitter disappointment and a certain lack of empathy. Our moms are just people, yet we often expect near perfection from them. I think most people become more understanding of this as they age and/or become parents themselves. Most parents are just doing the best they can, which is generally not perfect.

PaulW–I agree

In answer to your first question, I guess I take my husband for my example. In a way, I think of him as sort a sturdy gate shielding the rest of us. I read somewhere that in times of trouble a woman steps in front of her children and behind her husband.

This is a really cool article from the Ensign that I’ve always remembered:

http://lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?vgnextoid=2354fccf2b7db010VgnVCM1000004d82620aRCRD&locale=0&sourceId=c3ae61cb2b86b010VgnVCM1000004d82620a____&hideNav=1

I find my role in my childrens’ lives is constantly evolving. For instance, I text messaged Sarah a couple of days ago (I had an important question about how to curl one’s eyelashes) and she didn’t respond. She recently moved to St. George, so I was concerned and finally called her to ask why she didn’t answer me. “I don’t want to text you, Mom, I want you to call me. I want to talk to you.”

Who knew? She texts easier than she breathes these days and has been impatient with my calls. Now she needs to hear my voice. Remember that mother who said she is only as happy as her unhappiest child?—or somebody said that she loves that one best who needs her the most that day. That’s mothering.

You know, I want something with a solid black and white job description. I suppose God figured there’s no growth in having all the instructions, questions and answers clearly spelled out.

Great post, ESO. I agree that Christ and Heavenly Father are the ultimate examples of “mothering.” I personally am dreading church tomorrow, as I find Mother’s Day talks almost unbearable. I don’t like the “mothers as angels” language that seems to permeate Mother’s Day talks, and I hate it when fathers get up there and say their wives were fully responsible for how their children turned out.

I was thinking more about this.

As nouns, Mother and Father are equals and partners. Mother and Father appear to be on par with each other and, without specific information, we would assume they have similar commitments to their family roles.

Unsaid, though, is that I don’t believe we consider “mother” and “father” to be equal in function. We consider them to be equally committed and partners (ideally, right), but we would never consider the role to be the same. Transition from a noun to a verb makes the role shift more pronounced.

This week, Robert Kirby offers up a nice view of the benefits of a mother staying at home vs. working, and throws in a final aside that I’m sure is going to elicit a call from some church leader somewhere… http://www.sltrib.com/ci_9213669