Dear Mom, It has been a little over twenty years now since you left us. It seems like yesterday. I remember the last time I saw those emerald green eyes of yours looking into mine. As you drifted off into your final sleep, I hugged you and while looking in those eyes that had watched over me for forty one years, I saw recognition begin to fade; and I knew that Heaven’s door was opening. I hope, for you, that the time between has been no more than an instant in the eternity that you now enjoy. For those of us who remain however, that time has been long in passing. I have to be honest with you. Like so many of the gifts that my Lord has given me over the years, I didn’t fully appreciate you until I turned around and you were gone. After twenty some odd years, the desire to pick up the telephone and give you a call is stronger now, at times, than it was when your lovely voice could fill my ears. I often yearn for your council. Your down to earth wisdom never failed to amaze. You may not have known this about me, for my pride prevented me from telling; but of all the people in the world, a word from you brought me strength when weakness threatened. For just a word or two of reassurance from your lips could make things appear brighter and a bit more manageable. I know that you would find that funny, almost laughable, but it is the truth nonetheless. No, on second thought you knew me better than I know myself, so you knew. I suppose you understood the middle child’s pride and cherished independence, so you let it lie. I thank you for that. I have no regrets in your passing. We were square, and I thank you and God for that. I do want to thank you with all my heart for the privilege of truly getting to know you before you left us. Those last eight weeks of watching the walls come down and meeting the beautiful Southern Belle that was my mother is a gift of surpassing value. I thank you for your vulnerable openness and your unvarnished love. I know the price you paid for that vulnerability, and that is a gift that can never be repaid and will never be forgotten. I do wish that you had been able to meet my grandchildren before you left. They would be so much better for it, but I suppose the Lord has His reasons and who am I to argue. Mary asked me to write this letter to you as Mother’s Day approaches. I thought the suggestion silly at first, but now I understand the wisdom in her counsel, for often, like yours, Mary’s wisdom amazes as well. Finally, I want to thank you for your love and forgiveness, for your direction and example and for all of the good things in me, few as they are. For you rocked my cradle and made me who I am. I thank my God above for you, Mom. Love, Tony P.S. I hope you don’t mind, but with your permission, I would like to share this letter with my congregation as a reminder; a reminder to cherish the blessings of God and the wonderful gifts that He gives His children. P.P.S. If recent events have taught us anything, they have taught us that life is unpredictable and that time is fleeting. Mom, I want to thank you for the many scenes of joy and happiness that crowd my memory because of the tender love you have for me. My prayer is that those who read this note and who still have their mothers with them, come to realize the gift they have in the here and now and celebrate that gift while time remains. For those, such as myself, who have seen the passing of their mothers, I pray for peace and comfort; but over and above all of that, I pray that a host of loving memories will rise to the surface bringing joy and a lasting happiness with them. Happy Mother’s Day. Love, Pastor Tony
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AuthorTony Rowell Archives
December 2024
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