My mom, like most moms, was wonderful. She was the best.
She was fiercely independent; she didn't like to ask others for help.
She was so very wise, although I didn't see a lot of that wisdom until after she was already gone and I look back at the lessons she taught me.
She was incredibly brave, though she probably wouldn't have labeled herself as such. She up and moved her three young children from her supportive family to escape the cold winters of Pennsylvania, relocating us to Southern California, basically starting over again pretty much from scratch.
She had a quiet faith in Jesus. She prayed, she went to church, at times she would read her Bible. She prayed for three good children; that was one of her deepest prayers. I joke and say God answered her prayer and two of her children are good (me excluded) but in reality, I too am good; we all know Jesus and our spouses do too and our children know him too (though perhaps two of them aren't walking the straight and narrow path of him right now, but we keep praying).
She could bake and cook. Her fried chicken was so good. Not only did she fry it, but then she would bake it in the oven for 20-25 minutes to crisp it yet it was so moist. I can't duplicate it, nor her burritos, nor her stew, nor her chicken soup, nor the cabbage pie, among so many other recipes. And the nut roll she made, the breads at Christmas and Easter, again so delicious.
She could sew. She made clothes. She made quilts. She made Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy dolls that were so adorable. I totally forgot she had made these dolls until a friend at church, who knew us in our younger days, small world, had told me a story about the doll my mom had made her little girl years ago. That opened up a whole bunch of memories I had forgotten of my mom making them. She would knit hats for an organization that distributed them to kids who needed a warm winter hat.
She was this and she was so much more.
Life was hard for her, but God was always faithful. I've said this before and I'll say it again. The Bible talks about God having a special place in his heart for widows and the fatherless. Widowed at 38 with three young children, never remarried, God took care of her and us. Our needs were ALWAYS met in abundance; we never went without. Yet most days she was able to be home with us at the end of the day when we got home from school, finishing her cleaning houses she did in time to do so. It wasn't until years later when I was reading the Bible that it dawned on me that I was indeed fatherless, except for my heavenly father of course, yet I can attest God did take care of us so faithfully and still does to this day.
She was wonderful. She was the best mom in the whole world, like every mother is the best mom in the world, but she was my mom and I am thankful God let me be her daughter.
Six years ago today she went home to Jesus. I like to say it gets easier to miss her but it doesn't. It gets easier in the grieving, as you all know who have grieved a loved one, but we always do miss them. I'll see her again, for that I am thankful to you Jesus. In the meantime, say "hi" to her for me Lord and tell her she was the best mom for me.
I love you mom.
I love you Jesus.