My mom was my hero. I gave her a run for her money and probably was the cause of her prematurely greying hair, but that didn’t deter her from taking anything she faced in life. She didn’t hesitate to color those grey tresses well into her 80s. Even though her hair turned white as snow, she maintained her beauty, because it ran deeper than any anti-aging cream or wrinkle remover.
She came from a large farm family so she knew something about sacrifice. She also was one of the most compassionate women I’ve ever known. She taught me how to encourage, listen, have faith, to never give up and was often my greatest advocate when life threw lemons my way.
She was the mom that believed that I was beautiful. With her I always felt loved. She had time for me – loved to hear my stories – cheered me when I was sick.
When she neared her 80th birthday, it was payback time. She had become dependent on pain medication and could no longer live alone. I saw her go through withdrawal, rebuilding and renewal.
We had six years to share as I turned into the caregiver and she grew more dependent. It was as if our roles had reversed. When the Lord finally called her to heaven, I was convinced that her work was done on this earth. She was ready and willing to place her life in her Savior’s hands.
A mom is usually the first person to greet us when we enter this world, but her job doesn’t end there. The years of nurturing, encouraging, making us know we could do anything we put our minds to and a constant and enduring love are the precious gifts they give us..
I’m confident that God was waiting with open arms, exclaiming “Well done, good and faithful servant,” when she went to meet him. I will always love you, mom and know we’ll be together again some day. Until then – Happy Mother’s Day!