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 pushing forward in life. She didn’t hesitate to color those grey tresses well into her 80s. Even though her hair turned white as snow, her beauty ran deeper than any anti-aging cream or wrinkle remover.
She came from a large farm family so she knew something about sacrifice. She 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 I was beautiful enough to become Miss America even though I was 20 pounds overweight. 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 she’d 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 called her to heaven, I was convinced that she would receive a special place in heaven. She always placed her life in her Savior’s hands.
I know not everyone is as fortunate as I was. Not all moms are worthy of praise. God blessed me with my mother, because He knew I needed her unconditional love, her encouragement and motivation. I’m confident that God was waiting with open arms, exclaiming “Well done, good and faithful servant,” when she went to meet him.
Happy Mother’s Day, mom. I look forward to seeing you again in heaven!