A
few things immediately spring to mind when I think about who my mother was. I
remember her laugh, her hair, her stories, and the way she smiled with her
whole body when she sang a song she loved. My mother did many things in her
life. Wife, Writer, Sister, Teacher, Daughter, Preacher, Mother, Pray-er,
Friend. In all of these roles, she loved. She understood love in a way that few
people truly do: all encompassing, forgiving, abiding love. Mister Rogers said
it best, “To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he
or she is, right here and now.” I wish I knew her better, understood her better.
I wish I had the chance to sit down with her now and talk about…anything: Music,
current events, movies. She would have loved
Frozen. To thank her. For never
giving up on me, even if it meant standing back and letting me fume.
I never got the chance to know her as an
adult. I’m sure we would have been able to make peace after our many great
wars. As explosive as our relationship was, I find the times I remember most
were the still ones. Each revolved around a poignant question that had been
danced around, fought over, pointedly not asked coming to fruition over a cup
of coffee for me, tea for her, a piece of cake, sitting in the car outside the
mall or the church. When she asked those quiet questions, she hoped only for
genuine honesty so she could better understand. She listened intently every
time, not just waiting her turn to speak. Now, I’m sure sometimes that was
because she had no idea what to expect; I did tend to keep her on her toes. Still,
she listened without judgment, striving to accept me.
I’d like to think we would have become good
friends, having big discussions about faith, and love. She believed whole
heartedly in love. Love that builds bridges between people. Love that
understands your kid needs to scream at you, and you can forgive her for it.
Love as a driving force in the universe. “Love your neighbor as yourself.” My favorite sermon she ever preached was on
love. She used one of her top ten all time movies as an illustration in it.
Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. I’ll leave you all with how she really wanted to end that sermon, in
hopes that you’ll take it to heart because she also believed in fun. Be
excellent to each other, and party on dudes!
Death is Nothing At All by Henry Scott Holland
Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in that easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name ever be the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.
All is well.
Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep by Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle morning rain.
And when you wake in the morning's hush,
I am the sweet uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
MRM 7/2/1958-3/8/2014
