At the beginning of May I wrote a post here on BlogHer entitled: Tributes for Mothers: A (re)definition where I asked women (or men if they were so inclined) to share a tribute with us about their mothers or the people in their lives who were like a mother to them. Remembering that mother is just as much a verb than a noun, I was touched by the responses that people gave me.

Coffee Queen of Savvy Moms wrote a beautiful tribute for mothers-to-be. But not the mothers-to-be that you may be thinking of. In her words:

A friend once sent me an email that made Mother’s Day much more bearable. She wrote, “You deserve to celebrate Mother’s Day because you are already a mother in your heart.” So for all of those women out there struggling to get pregnant, or stay pregnant, I say to you: You deserve to be honored on this day as much as I do. You are already a mother in your heart, and one day the treatment will work, the pregnancy will stay healthy, the biological mother will choose you, or your paperwork will finally be approved. And until it happens (and for some women, I know it won’t), I wish you peace on this Mother’s Day and every one hereafter.

Shel brought me to tears with how she ran with this. She didn't post an entry on her blog. Rather, she posted an entry on the message board Young Widowed Parents. Her words really caught the spirit of what I was trying to convey with my original post. I wanted to reach through my computer and hug her tight. I wanted to hug all of them.

There is a blog I frequent written by a remarkable woman. Today she writes about Mother's Day. I marvel at how well she "gets it" and I had to share because sometimes we widdas can be so critical of "outsiders." I was so touched by her post, and as I read I was awestruck thinking of my widower-brothers. You menfolk take a lot of crap--from your kids, from your extended families, and sometimes from us widows. If you have daughters, well double kudos to you. You have to deal with all sorts of girl stuff you never thought you would. Tampax and bra shopping was supposed to be mom's job after all.

In case no one else has told you, I think you need to hear the words:

Dad, I'm proud of you for all you do for your family. I know it isn't easy, and I know you do it anyway. No, you're not perfect and yes, you wish you were better. But you are good enough and I am proud of you.

Dads, I am proud of you, too. Moms who do it alone, I am proud of you as well. Wow. Shel, thank you for sharing this with the rest of us.

Gem at My So Called Homeschool Life spoke of her sister who has been mothering people her entire life, from the children who she nannied to the working in a nursing home giving loving mothering to people who needed it there. Gem's admiration and tribute to her sister Shar is so touching.

Shar has often dispaired of ever having kids of her own, that she would be raising other people's kids into her old age. In my comment at Jen's I said I always got my sister a card for Mothers' Day. It would probably be more accurate to say that I always wanted to get her a card for Mothers' Day. But what kind of card can you get? I didn't want to make her feel bad that she wasn't a "real" mother. I usualy got a "thinking of you" card, or "proud of you" card. But this year, will be getting 'real' mother's day cards - her very own son is 4 months old now. You've seen pictures of him, she's RJ's mommy! It's much more real to her now, but she is the mommy she is to him because the mommy she has been to so many other kids over the years.

Mata at Time's Fool (and editor here at BlogHer) contributed a post about her two "other moms" that really nailed the spirit of the tribute call out.

I'd like to use some space today to talk about my two "other Moms" - two women who had substantial roles in my upbringing , and who were welcomed by my Mom as lovely additions to my life...

So here is to The Nurturers in our lives, the ones who step up to love a child or for that matter an adult -- at just the right time, with just the right idea. Whether its taking off our training wheels or introducing us to Winnie the Pooh -- they make our lives richer, more whole, happier. Bless them all.

And of course there were two entries on Melody's's site that I enjoyed.

In one she posted photos of the woman she admired most in the world.

The following photos are of my maternal grandmother, baby and little girl. Grandmama died almost nine years ago not long before her ninetieth birthday. She has always been the person I most admire in this world.

And then a beautiful and haunting entry about motherhood and the babies it brought into her life.

She remembers caressing the babies that came, loving each new life, accepting the responsible role. She remembers the joy that consumed, the purpose that revealed, the spirit that encompassed, the arms that received.

She remembers...God gave her the gift of motherhood.

I loved Em's entry Mothers Are A Sisterhood Of The Soul.

I think the person who stated “Mother is a verb”, rather than a noun, had it correctly. Mothering is what counts; who mothers you is now often a very unconventional person or even a group of people, in today’s topsy-turvy world, for “it does take a Village to raise a child” and I do not know why Hillary Rodham Clinton was criticized for saying that, but it is entirely true, worldwide and always has been.

And of course Nordette's on BlogHer Mama's Hands: An archetype of love and strength

My three mothers are my Grandmother Mamie, my Aunt Ruth, and my birth mother, Fannie Naomi. My grandmother died when I was in my twenties. My Aunt Ruth died when I was nine.

I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge those of us who cannot celebrate Mother's Day with our own Moms for one reason or another and do not have that "other mother" in our life that we can share the day with.

I wrote about it last year: the pain and heartbreak of just not knowing exactly what to do with yourself.

Walking into the store and heading towards what I needed, I froze. Do you know what is left that time of night on Mother’s Day? The picked over flowers that are starting to wilt a bit and were not the best of the bunch. A few scattered cards that no one chose that year. Some helium balloons that are slowly losing their air and looking rather pathetic and wrinkled. The leftovers.

...

I just stood there frozen. I should have bought flowers. I should have bought a card. I should have bought balloons. As I stared at the remnants of the unchosen tokens of love, I began to cry. They represented all that I could no longer do for Mom. They were in my face reminders of the years ahead that I will pass by displays like this and never have the need to browse for that perfect card for Mom. Or find the most beautiful flowers. Or get that balloon that will drive the dog crazy and make her laugh. And I cried.

And there are some women whose mothers are still alive, but a relationship with them is out of the question for one reason or another. Those hurt. Karen of Troll Baby captured that beautifully in her post Round and round and round and round.

Every Mother’s Day, I have my cry, alone. When no one is looking. I miss her. I miss who she could have been. I missed out on having a mother that truly loved me. I miss the mother that remembers these things on these little pieces of paper. That has that unconditional love that mothers speak of. That love I know I have for our boys. That love that is so strong and powerful, it would forgive absolutely anything they do or say. I wonder why she never had that. Or if she did, why it ended when I became a teenager.On the other hand, if things were different, I wouldn’t be the mother I am. Maybe our boys wouldn’t be so lucky to have a mother who has that unconditional, unwavering, unbreakable love for them.

Today I wish everyone who celebrates the day a Happy Mother's Day. To those of you who are missing a loved one on this day, I send you love and hugs. To those of you who are waiting so patiently for that child to arrive in your life, I wish you peace. To you Dads out there doing double duty, I send you my greatest admiration and respect.

And to you women out there who are motherless and other-motherless, stand with me and we will no longer be alone.