Don't You Dare Leave This World Without Reading This, Mom

Dear Mom,

I may be a Daughter of the King, but he gave me to you.  And in your arms I grew to love and honor and emulate you both. 

You fed me honey-butter sandwiches and pea soup when it is just about all I would eat.  You sent me outside to play with the knowledge that you were at home all day, all Summer, Winter, Spring and Fall. You gave me a chance to take piano lessons and let me quit; but not before I learned to read a bit of music --just enough to teach myself to play later on. 

You taught me to be objective and fair.  You taught me to love people.  You stuck with me when I was really, really bad.  And I only remember one spanking, because you had such strength, I rarely dared to cross you.

You NEVER EVEN ONCE said a disparaging word about my earthly father from the day he left us to this day, 45 years later.  (Thank you!) You've shown true love and courage every day of your life.

You always told me the truth.  When I came home one day from grammar school in tears because the older kids on the bus made fun of my "fire engine red socks,"  you said, "Well, they are fire engine red."

You showed me by example how to keep a healthy, pretty, and tidy home; how to be frugal and careful with resources. And,even though I'm not a fan of picking up dog litter with used napkins and paper towels, I follow your example of frugality in other ways.

You taught my brothers to be good, honest men, and when I reached an age when I was about to fly the nest, you reminded me that they were there to help me, and they were!

You caused me to think twice before making a very bad decision, then allowed me to make it and learn from it.

You were a friend to my friends.  They all loved to be around you.  And you often rescued them: when a friend's dog ran through a cake her mother was taking to an important function, you fixed it and it looked better than before, remember?

You took me to plays and art auctions . I learned.

You were good to your parents.  I admired.

You are creative and fun and smart. I watch.
You were a leader, a participant, a contributor and still are all these things!  I try to emulate you.

You are kind to animals.  Okay, except for rats and mice.

You tried to teach me to sew and bake pies.

You passed on a love for gardening.

When I was a child you told me (tongue-in -cheek) that all Jimmys were bad.  But later on, when I was asked out on a date by one of them, you said, "Who knows, it may be the most important day of your life."  And it was!

You gave me the book that introduced me to my Heavenly Father, The Hiding Place, by Corrie Ten Boom.  And later, while sitting by a pond in the woods, you assured me that you "know that you know, that the God of the Bible is for real."

You supported me every step of my life.  You sent me to college with your inheritance. You rescued me from losing my home with your investments, giving me time and grace to pay you back.

You helped me encourage my girls to be excellent women by giving them pet names like "Loving Wonderful."  and "Courageous Wonderful."   You taught them to love nature, games, books, classic movies, how to sew and cook and can; and to think about their future choices.  You contributed to their education over and over, through your own sacrifices, thereby demonstrating how to be a Grandmother who encourages the best in the next generation.  This I am trying to do as well.

Today, Mom, I got a letter from you with instructions on how to care for your body when your spirit is no longer occupying its lovely form.  You did this for my stepfather and for my sister, brothers and me.  You donated your beautiful body to others to use as was necessary.  In this you showed us all so much.

But don't you dare go to be with your Lord until you read and understand that your example is so admired and appreciated!  You are my hero.  My best hope is to be like you.  And when you are indeed with our Father, I will miss, honor and adore you (and the people you leave behind) until I join you.

This is summed up in a photograph I took of a magnet on your fridge.  

All my Love and Gratitude,
Becky