Something to think about

My friend's mother died early last Wednesday morning. Down in Ogden, Utah. My friend was there several days, had a good visit with her mother, told her she loved her, and came home Tuesday night to receive the next day's early morning call.

The visit was a good one, a time--for just the two of them--before her mother left this earth, a time she will always be glad for.

And while I call her my friend, which she is, I learned of this through another friend, one a bit closer. So this report came to me only today. I'm feeling sad for my friend, of course. But just now I'm thinking of something my friend said about this last visit with her mother.

"I was never her favorite, but I was the one who was there to tell her how much I loved her."

And I'm sure she felt that she spoke for others in the family, about the love.

But it's the other part I've been thinking about. "Not my mother's favorite." I tried to say that about myself--I was never my mother's favorite--but I couldn't say it. I wondered if I could say I was my mother's favorite. Or was it Janeen or Lucile or Sterling or Bill?

But here's the thing. I absolutely do not know. Which means, at least to me, that my mother didn't pick one of us as a favorite.

So here is what I believe. We were all her favorites, her real favorites, every last one of us five children. We were her favorite people on earth.

I'm sure of it.