“She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all. Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Honor her for all that her hands have done.” Proverbs 31:25-31a (NIV)
Has it been two years already since we spent Mother’s Day together?
There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you. For many months after you died, I couldn’t look at your picture…it was just too painful…but these days, sweet memories have replaced my heartache. I’m so grateful for that.
I wonder what it’s like in heaven? You know better than anyone how curious I’ve been my whole life, so yes, I do have some questions: What did Daddy-O say when he saw you? Is your mansion next to Grandma’s? What kind of jewels are in your crown?
How does it feel to be in the presence of God?
Mama, I loved it when you called me “daughter” and took the time to sit with me after school, always with a hug and a snack. Your listening ear was beyond measure. I’m amazed it didn’t fall off or wear out, as much as I used it, oftentimes repeating the same story over and over again. Yet, you never looked away or acted impatient. You just smiled and listened and loved.
What a blessing.
And, remember the time in my 20’s when I came home late and you were kneeling beside the couch praying for me? You said you had a bad feeling and an urgency to pray. How did you know that my car did a 360 on that icy road?
You were such a prayer warrior, not just for me, but for everyone.
Gosh, we shared many adventures didn’t we, which usually included a strawberry malt, extra-thick, and a thrift store stop. You always said you were looking for a “treasure”. Of course, I never needed to look beyond your beautiful face.
I really miss our daily talks, when I’d call to ask how long I should cook such and such or maybe just to vent. I still smile when I think about when we gave you that cell phone. You immediately put it in your pocket and whispered “I’m carrying you with me, daughter” and you always did, Mama. You always did. You know, I still have some of your voice messages on an old phone that I kept, ones telling me that you got home safely from somewhere, so I wouldn’t worry about you.
I don’t worry about you anymore.
I hate that you got cancer, Mama. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I wonder if you heard me reading to you from the Bible minutes before you went to be with Jesus? I’m so grateful I was there when you took your last breath on earth and your first breath in heaven.
And that spectacular sunset that appeared in the sky as I drove home from hospice that day? I know I’ve already thanked God for that, but will you thank Him again for me?
I miss you every single day, but I’ve been reminded in the midst of my sorrow that death isn’t the end, but the beginning. That God gave His only son to die for us and then He defeated death, so that we could live forever with Him. God’s Love is bigger than death. God’s Love is eternal.
That brings me so much comfort.
I have more I could say (no surprise to you!), but all my words really mean this: I love being your kid. Nothing has changed really, except your address. I’m still “daughter”…your daughter…and that fact makes my heart overflow with joy.
Remembering you on Mother’s Day and always, Dear Mama.
All my love,