Maybe because I was there with my mom and my sister, which had never before been the case.
Maybe because I was so much wanting/needing to channel the strength of women like Mary Fielding Smith.
Maybe because so many poignant Relief Society experiences were so fresh in my memory.
Like Wes's funeral luncheon.
I remember the first time my newlywed self went to help with a ward funeral luncheon. A little timid and unfamiliar with the process, I busied myself washing dishes. From the sink, I watched women I knew coming and going, dropping off food, setting out silverware, wiping tables. Most of them arrived carrying a white work apron which they quickly donned before rolling up their sleeves and joining the ongoing dialog. I've since witnessed that scene repeated dozens of times: white aprons, willing hands, happy conversation.
But on the afternoon of Wes's funeral, I wasn't behind the sink. I remember walking into the cultural hall, weary from the heat and heaviness of our hour at the cemetery. I remember that everything was so lovely. Table after table set with fresh flowers and food in abundance. Over the din of our gathered family and friends, I occasionally glimpsed women coming and going, filling dishes, clearing tables. Women I knew and loved. Quietly taking care of everything.
I remember Elder Eyring saying once that the spirit of Relief Society is passed from heart to heart. I love that. It makes me think of all the women who have passed pieces of the legacy to me. My mothers and grandmothers and sisters, visiting teachers, neighbors, and friends.
I remember going visiting teaching about six months ago. Lucy, ever my little angel, was wearing another guise that afternoon and was causing me endless grief. My whispered commands and continuous "evil eye" were going totally ignored and I finally took her outside for a talk. Which didn't go well. Back inside, I was flustered and close to tears. After a hasty message, we walked to the doorstep for goodbyes. I remember trying to give a wry apology, but having to hastily wipe the leaking water from my eyes. There was no awkwardness as those sweet women wrapped me up in their arms and soothingly said everything my tired heart needed to hear:
"You're doing a great job!"
"Your kids are going to be just fine!"
I love Relief Society.
I love womanhood and motherhood.
I love all the woman who have touched my life and taught me about charity.
What a legacy to strive to inherit.
