Since we're messing around with holidays, in light of political correctness and special interests, it's time to switch Mother's Day to Women's Day. Don't misunderstand, mothers are amazing, but they are because they carry female strengths of intuition and influence, the most potent powers on earth. The combination easily morphs into nurturing.
Even as a young mother, I resented Mother's Day. It's not possible to ease the strife of harried mothers with a carnation or a jazzed up card. I always felt it was a buy-off. Don't kiss up to me, just do the dishes and put the kids to bed.
Then, the seasons passed and my extended exposure to all ages of women expanded my awareness. Some did not bear children, or raise them. However, their actions clearly fit the definition of "mothers."
Whether you are a child or a girlfriend or a husband or a father or neighbor or grandparent, women nurture you. Yes, we do. And, we do tough love and listen to intuition alerts that tell us a loved one is in trouble. We make your favorite liver with onions, your peanut butter and jam sandwiches.
Women, whether we provide the womb for birth or not, sustain kings and queens and presidents and CEOs and scientists and broken spirits and tragic souls. We counsel, guide, nurse and love.
Several of my dearest friends have never married nor had children. They are the greatest mothers I know. Care-taking, with hands or hearts, body and soul, is mothering; sacrificing and crying over, is mothering; running a fortunate 500 company with feminine sensitivity is mothering.
Women, the astounding feminine power, sustain new life, protect and instinctively guide humanity. Our powers are staggering; God-given. Too bad some women don't recognize their priceless nature.
Two of my mothers are perfect examples of enlightened women. They were empowered by their vision and creative strengths. If anything, suffering made them stronger.
My mother-in-law, Leila, was as dear a woman as God ever made. Born disabled with ankles that collapsed in, she never succumbed to a wheel chair. "Or I'd never get out of it," she told me. She cooked and baked and canned and quilted for her family and neighbors and worked until she was 80 at the hardware store, on her broken feet; always in pain; always with a happy heart. Her dear husband's money traditionally went back into the farm, never toward such superfluous things as Christmas or birthdays.
Early on, I grew to understand why Leila left the price tags on her gifts. Those hours on her crippled feet, those tags, spoke of her sacrifices.
My own divine mother, Wanda Tenney, as a divorced mother supported her family on a school teacher's wage. Though consumed with responsibilities, she created an amazing doll house for her children and their friends. Without a dime to spare, she used boxes and cartons and scraps to craft rooms and furniture and bedding and doll clothing. The house, with floors and walls, but no roof, took up the entire dining room table for years of kids play.
For every woman we know, we can develop a similar profile. We are life's stabilizers. We carry God's love. The thought of it rocks the senses.
Yes, it's time to rename Mother's Day in celebration of feminine power, for truly, without women's flexible and unique gifts, implemented every second, of every day, society would shatter in its brittleness.
By the way, we also need to change Father's Day to Men's Day. But, that's for another column.
• East Valley resident Linda Turley-Hansen (firstname.lastname@example.org) is a syndicated columnist and former Phoenix veteran TV anchor.