No one tells you, when your mother is gone life changes forever, but it does. Life is different now. Fourteen years ago mama physically left us for her heavenly home. 12:01am May 1st. I will admit I have shed a few tears over the last couple weeks but it is merely a longing.
This was her favorite time of year. Mama loved when she could get her hands in the dirt and plant things, move others, trade varieties & colors of flowers with friends or family. She loved the extended light during spring & summer; she needed it like she needed air. She walked out of bed in the mornings straight to the windows to let the light in. She often "lunched" with lifelong friends. When at home, she walked around completely content doing the things that needed to be done, usually humming or listening to her radio. She did not shy away from home improvement projects just because she was alone. She usually would jump right into a painting or sewing project. Sometimes she called one of her children for back up.
I miss her. I miss her smile, her touch, her quick wit and how she could make everything right again. God gave her many gifts. Her gift of hospitality made everyone feel at ease and comfortable. She was also very discerning. She was straightforward, never mean spirited but told you what you needed to hear. When I needed her, she was always there. I could be upset or worried and her near perfect common sense could always settle me. She struggled on occasion with trusting God supremely, her words not mine. "I tend to worry", she would say (and she certainly did). However, when it was important, really important, she was your rudder in the storm. Her feet were set on solid ground.
When things were hard, she would say with 100% confidence, "we will figure it out" and we did.
When my racing brain had a million ideas at once and I needed to get them all out, she wisely said, "why don't you write all of that down. Organize on paper what is most important and we will work on it together later." I figure that bought her some quiet time, but it also really helped me organize my thoughts.
Her Mother's Days were always a whirl of activity. It was not a day of rest. The church we attended held "Memorial" on the second Sunday in May which meant there was food to prepare and flowers to get on graves of her loved ones. She woke most Mother's Day at dawn and a cake was soon in the oven. By late afternoon she would finally have time to sit and listen to her childrens offerings to her. Sometimes she got a homemade card, or a foot rub (which she loved). She always wanted time with us, just time.
Today is not a sad day. I choose instead to be grateful, humbled by the sacrifices she made for each of her children, her steadfastness, her sense of humor, her deep-rooted faith and trust in the Lord.
I will open the drapes, first thing and feel the sun on my face.
