Ah, November - the month in which we focus on being thankful for all our blessings. Indeed we have much for which to be thankful but our gratitude will be bittersweet this month as we deal with the loss of our dear mother last week. Already I am missing her tremendously, her sweet smile, her soft voice, her gentle touch on my hand.
I found a note she’d saved that I wrote in the second grade in which I called her “the best mother there ever was” and I still regard her the same as I did then.
It has been painful to watch Mama’s health decline the last few months. In September she spent four days in the hospital, then 16 days in a rehab center. Because she was not making progress in gaining strength, she was released. She came home under hospice care the first of October. This was my first experience with hospice and they were wonderfully caring and compassionate.
Mama’s eyesight and hearing had gotten very poor and her memory was beginning to deteriorate. Her appetite declined and she ate and drank very little. We saw a marked decline after her son Richard died near theend of August. In the last few days she was placed on more medication and breathing treatments. Finally, family members were called and, gathered around her bed on Tuesday afternoon, we held hands, the pastor prayed and read scripture. We said our good-byes as her frail body gave up and she slipped away from us in death.
Mama gave birth to five babies and she had great love for each of them. There was no favoritism with her. When we were children, she was never too busy for us. There was no “Not now,” “Maybe later” or “I’m too busy” in her vocabulary. She was ever ready to play with us, read to us and engage in our childhood activities. As we grew older, she inspired us to dream big dreams and supportedus in whatever we attempted. She encouraged us to believe we could do anything or be anything we wanted.
As my sisters, my niece and nephews and I reminisced about her life this week, we all were impressed with Mama’s nurturing spirit. She made our home a loving haven for several generations of family and friends. She liked to sew and skillfully stitched and mendedour clothing. She loved to garden and shared her produce with others. She loved to entertain, cooking big meals and gathering the family around the table. She delighted in selecting just the right gift for others.
Family members shared memories at her funeral Saturday afternoon and reflected on how we were shaped by the values our parents taught us and the examples they set. Mama taught us right from wrong, had a strong faith and lived her beliefs. She reveled in our accomplishments and made us feel very special.
I found this clipping in one of her boxes of keepsakes. Written by Francis of Assisi, it is well known by many and seems to sum up her attitude: “Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; Where there is injury, pardon; Where there is doubt, faith; Where there is despair, hope; Where there is darkness, light, and Where there is sadness, joy.
“O divine master, Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; for it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”
Susan Holland, who works for the Westside Eagle Observer, is a lifelong Benton County resident.
Opinion, Pages 6 on 11/02/2011