This is an edited version of a long letter I wrote to my mother.
November 24, 2003
Dear Mom:
I'm thrilled to hear how well you are doing, recovering from your bout with West Nile Virus. The sound of your voice and your sense of humor, do me good.
I am sorry that you can't remember the week after you got out of the hospital. Several of your children came by to help both before and after, and so did several friends and neighbors. Marla was a trooper, doing more than we can ever thank her for. You have raised some fine children, and your neighbors' concern shows how much you have touched their lives.
At one point, you were feeling down and wondered whether you had really done any good in your life. I told you what a difference you have made in many people's lives. Scientists say that we never really forget anything, but that trauma doesn't let us remember truly painful things, so we forget the thing just before the pain, or for some time after. So, at some level, we do remember the events, but we block them out. I pray that in your spirit, you do remember what I said, since I believe it brought you much joy and comfort.
Mom, you gave life to thirteen children, and although one has gone on to be with the Lord, you raised twelve responsible adults, who contribute to the lives of not only their families, but the community. None of them are drunks or drug addicts, all of them work hard, and they all love you and each other. We are all good husbands or wives, good parents, and we all try to do our best. We are all better people than we would have been without you. You worked every day to feed and clothe us, you ensured we got good educations, and you loved us even when we did things we clearly should not have. You have kept us in line, you have helped keep Dad in line, and you did it all with grace and good humor. You are the best person I have ever known.
At that point, Dad said that if I kept talking, you would think you were an angel. No, Mom, not an angel, since angels are created beings, sent to minister to the saints. You are one of those saints, a human being, with the faults of a human being. But, you accepted Jesus Christ at an early age, and you have lived a Christian life. At least three of your sons and both daughters are walking with Jesus. None of us perfectly, but we will go to heaven when we die. With the next salvation, the majority of your children are destined for heaven – how many mothers can claim such an achievement?
The plaque that you hung in each house we lived in quotes Proverbs 3:6 "In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths." I remember you quoting Ruth, “Where you go, I will go, where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I shall be buried.” You said that that was your vow when you got married. Mom, you have fulfilled your vow.
Jesus said that, if we want to be a leader, we should be a servant, and if we want to be the leader of all, we should be the servant of all. You have been a servant to your husband, to every one of your children, to your friends and neighbors, to your parents, to your brothers and sisters, and to everyone within your reach.
You are the best person I have ever met.
Mom, the only complaint you had when you were sick was that you wished you could help others rather than being a burden. Mom, it was a pleasure to serve you, and in some small way to repay you for your servanthood through all these years. Mom, you have been the servant of all, and I am confident that hereafter there is laid up for you a crown of righteousness.
Whatever successes any of your children have achieved are partly due to your guidance and leadership.
I love you, and hope to see you soon.
Greg
This June, I had the opportunity to share this letter with several family and friends. I read it as my mother's eulogy. She passed away peacefully, and is now in God's presence, where God has wiped away any tears she may have.
Mom led a long and Godly, Christian life, and I can only repeat: Mom, you have fulfilled your vow, and I love you.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
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