Do as I say; not as I do. Republican presidential candidate Sen. John McCain, in a speech earlier this week, criticized his opponent, Democrat Barack Obama, for waiting until now - after six years in the U.S. Senate and two years into a national campaign - to visit the Middle East where American troops have been fighting for seven years. Read more...

• Whale mistake

Each year as Mother's Day approaches, we hear from people who want to thank their mothers for a variety of goodness, help and encouragement. There are stories of wonderful, sometimes heroic, sacrifices mothers have made for their children. There are stories of mothers scrubbing floors at night so their daughters could have ballet lessons. There are stories about Mom's apple pie.

Often times, though, what it all boils down to is this: We are grateful to our mothers simply for being there.

Sometimes annoying, sometimes inspiring, sometimes mistaken, sometimes generous beyond belief, mothers are there from our beginnings, and usually for the long haul. They, and our fathers, are the ones who know our early history best.

But what if they aren't there for us?

Sometimes, mothers are far from us physically; sometimes, in the same room, they are far away emotionally. Sometimes, they are too ill to pay attention to us. Sometimes, we don't know where they are. For many, the mother is no longer alive.

Still, our mothers made it possible for us to live.

A big, bad football player gave the most dramatic example of gratitude to a missing mother in August, when he was enshrined in the NFL Hall of Fame.

Charlie Sanders was a tight end for the Detroit Lions from 1968-1977 and by all accounts, from his college days through his pro retirement, was a force to be reckoned with on the gridiron.

When players are chosen for the Pro Football Hall of Fame, they get to give a speech. They talk about the glory days, about the people who helped them get there, about what an honor it is to go into the Hall of Fame.

Sanders did that in an understated fashion and with admirable brevity. Nevertheless, thinking back on it this Mother's Day weekend, his was the most deeply moving speech in a day of moving oratory.

Here's how he finished his remarks:

"There have been times that I have looked back at my life and asked, 'What if? What if I could change one, two, maybe three things without disturbing the whole picture? What would that be?' You haven't heard me mention anything about the one person who was very important in my life: my mom. ... You see, my brothers and I lost my mother when I was only 2.

"Of all the things I've done in football, and there have been a lot, there's one thing that I really, really regretted.

"Many times I've seen athletes, college, professional, often look into a television and say, 'Hi, mom.' I always thought that was special and always something I'd want to do but couldn't.

"So I take this time right here, right now in Canton, Ohio, at the Pro Football Hall of Fame to say, 'Hi, mom. Thank you for the ultimate sacrifice. This day belongs to you.'"

Afterwards, Sanders said that he had been thinking about it a long time; people always thank those who raise them and inspire them and sometimes discipline them. His mother didn't have a chance to do those loving things, at least, not in his memory. Nevertheless, he said, bringing everything back to the most basic fact, he certainly would not be in the Hall of Fame if she hadn't given him birth.

Everything good in our lives begins at birth, and we owe our mothers thanks for that - no matter how near or far they are.

Many of us are fortunate to have our loving mothers alive, well and available to thank. But all of us have a reason to thank our moms Sunday.

Happy Mother's Day, Moms. And thanks.