About five years ago I lost the brightest light of my life - I lost my mom. It was a casual work day, nothing especially alarming other than my mom was being moved to a hospice that very morning. She had been ill for quite some time, in and out of hospitals and long-term care treatment centers. She was a tough soldier, but very battle-worn. It was my objective to fly to the East Coast from Texas to see my mom the following week and count her fingers and toes as she would say about seeing her children. I had suspected, knowing my mom who had rejected the idea of hospice care, wouldn't make it through the first week. I had to wrap up some things and get there - That morning on March 17, 2017, I learned I was too late.
From the time of her admittance and years before, she and I spoke every day, it was our tradition and way to stay connected miles apart. But lately, it was from her hospital room. Our conversations would vacillate between acceptance and denial of the inevitable. Every conversation had awoken emotions of being in a toddler, pre-teen state of mind. All I knew was that I was losing what my emotional state would refer to as my 'mommy'. I'd always called her mother, mom, or mama...never mommy - until I needed her to live, but realized I had to let her go. She was dying.
For the first few years after her passing in 2017, every March I found myself in a dark, angry, isolated place. I wanted my mom back here with me. Without her who would advise me on major issues in my life? Who would give me that mom 'glare' when she disagreed with my thoughts or plans? Who'd be my champion? After several years, months, and days of contemplation and regretting Spring I realized I was only being selfish. It hadn't occurred to me that possibly she was tired of being unwell. Exhausted dealing with pain. Maybe she was ready to 'go home'. It was a revelation that hit like bricks. How would I feel in pain, agony, and despair over my health every day? I couldn't do it, and gained admiration and respect for someone who held on for so long.
Once I made that connection in my mind I found myself smiling as I imagined her walking and talking with Christ in complete perfect health. I imagined her face in awe as she walked through heaven smiling from ear-to-ear seeing friends and family who had passed on long before her. She is so happy now. I saw her dancing and singing praises with a choir, pruning her garden, reading the word. Everything she loved to do but couldn't in this life. I laughed and cried for us both. I slowly went from mourning to light..
I want to encourage anyone who may find it hard to 'press on' after losing someone so dear, whether it friend or family. Regardless of the circumstance, I want you to know that God can reveal what we cannot see, and offer perfect peace and understanding even when we sometimes feel there is no logical reason for our loss, no relief from the pain or distress that follows. He can walk you through it if you let Him. I love you Mommy, stay in perfect peace, we'll praise and fellowship together again one day. Amen!
Dedicated to: the Rev. Lola B. Howard, July 5, 1942 - March 17, 2017
Ecclesiastes 3:4
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
2 Corinthians 1:3-5
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ, we share abundantly in comfort too.
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