Remembering Mom

This morning I woke up in a world where my mom no longer is. For some years we’ve been losing bits and pieces of her because of an illness that was slowly taking her away, so I didn’t expect to feel such a huge sense of loss when she was completely gone. But I do. And I can’t help but wonder if all over the world for the past few days people have been experiencing a vague sense that something is different – a slight shift in the atmosphere – a sensation a little like sadness, because though they may not have known her, my mom’s presence in this world made it a better place.

See my mom was no ordinary woman. You couldn’t tell it just by looking at her – she was always understated and humble and even a little apologetic about most things. People who didn’t know her probably saw her as a prototype of the late 50s early 60s housewife whose life revolved around husband and children, but underneath that simple exterior lived the heart of a warrior.

My mom cared fiercely for people – all people – but especially those who were overlooked by others. Though she never said it out loud and may not have been completely conscious of it, I believe she saw Jesus in the faces of marginalized folks. At least I know that Jesus saw it that way because I’m convinced he provided a special squad of angels to accompany her on her missions of mercy. My mom ventured into many questionable places and situations to help yet one more person in need. It just didn’t matter who they were or how big their plight, she was there, present with them rendering aid however she could.

And she was courageous. My mom exercised the gifts God gave her whether it was deemed appropriate to do so or not. She taught a mixed gender single adult Sunday School class for years in a church that wasn’t too keen on women teaching men, and she only stopped when the powers-that-were stepped in when the class grew too large to ignore. Later in life she pastored the residents of the Walnut Place nursing home leading music and preaching sermons faithfully for over 30 years. It was her hand many of those congregants held just before they passed on to glory. Many souls are with my mom in heaven today because of her courage.

I could go on about her ability to make anyone feel welcome in her home, her love of cooking and conversation, her penchant for sweets, her deep and abiding love for God, her tendency to put any and everyone’s needs above her own, but to describe her appropriately would take far too long and perhaps just increase the sense of loss for everyone.

But I see now that it is a privilege to feel this loss – a loss without complication or regret – just pure loss. Because my mom lived a life of love – love for God and love for others. And just like Jesus said, that pretty much sums up the whole purpose of life on this earth.

So tomorrow morning when I wake up, I will choose joy because my mom is with Jesus experiencing the reward of a life well lived, but I will also feel the loss of her warrior presence in my life and in the world, and that is a good thing. I can think of no better way to be remembered.