When you go home tonight, be sure and give your mama a hug, and tell her how much you appreciate her.

Moms don't live forever, you know, and they need to hear how much they are loved, regularly.

Mom is the taxi driver that carries us to all of our ball games, practices, and manages our schedules, changing her own itinerary to adjust it to our needs.

And she is our best fan in the cheering section, too. The one that yells the loudest at the officials during that sporting event if she thinks he's picking on her child.

She's the one that is working in the concession stand, so that money can be raised to support our programs, and selling the oranges, apples, tickets, or whatever else that we bring her way-never once complaining about the stress involved with juggling all of those activities together.

Mom is the one that keeps one of each portrait that we have ever had made in school displayed on the refrigerator, desktop, wall, dashboard of the car, visor of the car, in her checkbook, and anywhere else that her eyes glance during her daily routine.

Moms draw upon their strength solely from their love and pride of their children-without strings of any kind attached, whatsover.

Mom is the one that takes us to the doctor, dentist, and anywhere else that we go.

If you walk through the grocery store, you would probably see that 80-percent of the women shopping in them has at least one child with her.

That tells me one thing: Nothing is too important to Mom that she can't have her child with her while she does it.

A very close friend of mine, Derek Brown, was managing editor of The Advocate when I was hired. In fact, he was the man that hired me, giving me an opportunity to prove myself to him and the publisher.

In essence, Derek is responsible for my success today. But someone else was the reason that Derek was here.

Derek's mother was his driving force, through college, and job interviews, always there for him, to push him when he needed a little nudge.

Without reservation, when all others were seemingly against him, Derek's mother was his driving force-the one person that convinced him that he could succeed in all of his dreams and aspirations.

You might ask, "What has prompted this rambling in the column?"

My answer is simple. Derek suffered a tragic, life-changing event this week. His mother was killed in a terrible auto accident, and she was laid to rest this past weekend.

Fortunately Derek had recently spoken to her, and was planning on visiting with her. Those plans are gone, pushed to the wayside now, because the Good Lord has taken her home.

My point is simple. It doesn't matter where you are, or what you are doing, don't let another night pass you by without taking the opportunity to tell your mother how much you appreciate her, and love her.

We may not always agree with what our mothers say or do, but one thing is for certain, they live everyday of their lives for their children, and no one could ever take the place of them in our lives.

So, when you say your prayers at bedtime tonight, say a prayer for your mother, and ask that she always be blessed, whether she is here among the living, or walking with The Lord.

You can rest assured that wherever she may be, she is asking the same for you, and watching over you with extreme pride, and love bigger than can be harnessed, ever.