Yesterday marked 21 years since my mother's homegoing. I spent all day searching through photo boxes and memorabilia for things that might express a little of what she means to me. But of course,I found way too much material for one little post. Trying to distill it was almost painful. In many ways, my mother was larger than life. The youngest of nine children, she was tall, loud, talked with her hands, spent most of her life fighting weight problems, and had an almost compulsive need to confront wrongdoing and injustice when she found it. But somehow this all added up to being wonderful! Underneath, she was very tenderhearted. What she chose to love she loved passionately. First and foremost she loved the Lord God with all her heart, soul, and mind. Then she loved her family. Though my father was the quieter one of the two, my mother had a very scriptural awe and reverence for him. She would allow no disrespect for him from anyone. And how she adored babies and children! Being a mother and grandmother was truly her life's calling. When we children started leaving the nest, she found others to nurture. Nurturing and service were definitely her "language of love". When there were no people around, she lavished her attentions on her pets, or her garden. When we moved to southern Oregon in 1959 and bought a half acre of very fertile ground, she had discovered a new joy. At first she had planted a large vegetable garden to help feed her growing family. Then when she and Dad finished building a house on the property, she took great delight in landscaping the yards. I don't think there was a flower she didn't like. Dad laughingly swore he was going to put blinders on her whenever they drove by a plant nursery. Once she had a dream of heaven, and in the end she was walking in a field of waist-high flowers that stretched as far as she could see!
Much of who I am and what I believe I owe to my dear mother. In my earlier post, called Mercy I described a seven year period in my life when I was angry. It was only many years later, after the Lord restored me, and after Mom had died, that I found out just how much she had prayed for me during that time. Thank you, God, for a mother that prayed! I can hardly wait for heaven to love on her again.
Here is a slide show that I managed to put together with a lot of difficulty (lol) that says a little of what I feel: