I was recently invited to support my friend Debora at a luncheon where she had been nominated to be our state’s “mother of the year.” I have admired her for a decade and was thrilled to sit among her family and friends and silently cheer her on as she delivered a short speech. In it, she recounted the day the first of ten children was placed in her arms. In a matter of moments she was transformed from a child to a mother.

As each of the 8 women stood I could easily see why they had been nominated. One sang a little tune and I pictured her fortunate children, hearing that sweet voice daily in their home.

Another talked about the highs and lows of motherhood when hearing the words “It’s a boy.” Then “We’ve diagnosed it as ______ (insert the name of a disease). Then “You’ve been called to serve…” And finally “We’re having a baby.” In a few sentences we rode the emotional rollercoaster from becoming a mother to a grandmother with her.

One mother who had biological children, adopted children, and--after being widowed and remarried--eight step-children, spoke of the exhaustion that starts with sleepless nights tending a newborn, and anxious nights praying over young adults.

Finally, another mother shared the line “With great power comes great responsibility.” She gave credit to Uncle Ben from the Spiderman story, but thought it also perfectly fit the role of mother.

The term mother-of-the-year often brings a little smirk as it is thrown around by women who shrug off their poor behavior as something that will surely disqualify them for a “mother of the year award.”

Yet as I watched women in their 30’s to women in their 80’s, who had not sought this honor, be honored, I created a mental list of dozens more who could have been on stage. Each one struggling to squeeze into three minutes all that they had learned or felt about motherhood.

Motherhood is messy, tragic, glorious, deflating, sweet, and all too often undervalued. It was encouraging to see an organization who, since 1935, has sought to find and celebrate women who had given birth, or not, for their quiet work. The tag line of American Mothers is:

We See, We Care, We Serve.

Today, can we find a way to return the favor and see mom? Care about her? And even serve her?