mothers

it's interesting how i have not cried over my mother in quite some time. not at christmas, nor the 9th anniversary of her passing… i'm just not a crier that way and i don't dwell on that kind of thing. y'know, the saddness of all that. i am much more inclined to remember the stuff that makes me smile.

SP's grandmother is now sitting in the Lord's presence. she's perfect in every way, healed and marveling at the golden pavement… the spendor of her new surroundings. as a believer, it's what we yearn for. 

thinking about daughters watching grieving mothers, mothers grieving over lost mothers… well it brought back so many memories of grieving that i identified very strongly with what SP and her family are going through.

my grandmother lived to be 103, but that didn't mean that my own mother grieved any less just because my grandmother was old and frail. it was hard watching my mom grieve. it's awkward and there's not much to say… sometimes nothing is better than something lame. (i oftentimes think of Job's "friends" who should have taken the less-is-more approach in trying to comfort)

my mother wasn't blessed with as much longevity as my grandmother. smoking will do that. but i was so glad to have my mom for 35 years. she saw me married, met my children and enjoyed them for almost 8 years, saw me rededicate my marriage to the Lord, and came to know His saving grace just two weeks before she died. because of this, the sting of death is diminished in light of the victory dance i know she did the second she left this life. thank you, sweet Jesus for that affirmation!!

my mother possessed a great love for others. she was a tireless volunteer. she raised children for (yikes!) 35 years. she loved to laugh and did it often. she enjoyed television (it was always on, sort of like a companion as she worked in the house), cleaned like a maniac, was an excellent cook, baked christmas cookies like a machine, told jokes and had a sarcastic wit, cried at gone with the wind every time she saw it, and used to blast operas out our living room windows on saturday mornings. 

yeah, i miss my mom. i told her everything. and in the (almost) year after my dad died, i used to call her every day. at first to cheer her up, but quickly thereafter, to inquire after her health as she was diagnosed with terminal cancer just three months after losing him. but she never wasted one minute dying. no sir. she laughed and encouraged and poked fun and even had scandelously funny last words the day before she died. 

in the tears that blur my vision, i remember a woman who lived life fully. reckless abandon. full throttle. no regrets. and at last, a surrendered believer. her tender new-believer heart, while afraid, was at peace. i look forward to the day when we can put our heads together, chatting and laughing. heads thrown back, laughing until the tears roll down our faces. 

just like old times.