“Let us labor for our Master from the dawn ‘til setting sun, let us talk of all His wondrous love and care; then when all of life is over and our work on earth is done, and the roll is called up yonder I’ll be there.”
James M. Black 1856-1938 ~ Baptist Hymnal
“She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed…Charm is deceitful and beauty is in vain, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.”
~ Proverbs 31:26-28a & 30-31 (ESV)
She is still, silent, never to speak again.
“Oh, Mommy,” the child in me choked upon seeing the woman who gave me life, laying lifeless in her hospice bed. Only an hour or so since breathing her last, she is sallow with that tell-tale pallor of death.
I round the foot of the bed, coming along side her. Taking her cool hand in the warmth of mine, caressing timidly, I notice higher on her arm, toward her heart, she is warm. For a moment I wonder if the doctor was wrong and there is still life deep inside, waiting to be revived…just waiting for permission to live again.
Laying my head on her chest, tears trickling from my eyes to pool on her skin, I startle, surprised at the left-over sounds of life gurgling in her hollow lungs. Once, evenly and robustly moving air in out, now echo as though a shell; silence, except for the settling of air. The remnants of her life’s breath.
I long for you to speak, for your eyes to flutter or your hand to squeeze mine, but it’s not to be. You lay there peacefully, your eyes closed in the deep sleep of death, and your hand cannot return my touch. But as for speaking…you continue. Your “voice” is different now and I can no longer hear it with my ears, for it has become a voice I must hear with only the memories of my heart.
You promise me I’ve learned enough to go on from here, that you’ve taught me well, and this isn’t the end. As with all the motherly teaching you’ve done in my life, you remind me you’ve simply gone up ahead so that I have a footpath to follow. So, I’ll take shaky steps into those footprints that always seemed too large for me, and I’ll try to fill them to overflowing so my own children can be confident in the way they lead.
Because this is not our home.
From the beginning you pointed me to Jesus, because He is The Way home.
He is exactly where we need to be.
The only One we’ll ever need.
“For in Him, we live and move and have our being.” ~ Acts 17:28 (ESV)
“Train up a child in the way he should go; and when he is old he will not depart from it.” ~Proverbs 22:6 (ESV)
Oh Tami, this is so beautiful and touching! I can relate after having just lost my Mom. There’s such emotion that I can feel coming from your heart. Thank you dear friend. I love you!
I felt her heart, too!
When I read it, I thought about you and your mom as well.
This is such a beautiful tribute to your mom, Tami! I can feel your heart in every word!
Thank you for sharing a very private and intimate moment. These are words not everyone is willing to share. I pray it will touch hearts as it has touched mine!
I love you!