I recently attended the funeral of my best friend’s mother. As expected, it made me miss my own mother.
The service was at Floral Haven Cemetery. My own mother is laid to rest there on the same grounds in a crypt in their mausoleum.
I have to tell you, I am the worst at paying tribute to the dead. I don’t know why. I was brought up in a family that still today decorates the graves of loved ones passed each Memorial Day. It’s just very uncomfortable for me. I know my mother’s body lies in that crypt, but I know her spirit is elsewhere. In Heaven. With Jesus. ♡ And in my heart.
I loved my mother dearly. We were very close. I was her only child. Her life. Until my own children took over that position. ♡ And all the altruisms she supported.
It’s very difficult to bring myself to go visit her. It’s cold and quiet and full of dead people in that mausoleum.
I choose to find my mother instead in the places I remember her most, quite alive. In the hearts of her family, her greatest love. I find her each Thursday night at Saint Francis Hospital as I walk into work, where she was a long time volunteer In the eyes of an animal, her second love. In the season of Christmas, her favorite time of year. And in the memories I hold dear of her with her family and friends. That mausoleum full of the dead is not my mother. Not the mother I remember.She was very much alive. She was warm and welcoming to all. Her home was always open to everyone. Not a holiday passed that we didn’t have some friend without a place to go sitting at our holiday table.
As I left my friend’s mother’s funeral that afternoon, I felt compelled to go visit my mother. So I did. As I walked in to the mausoleum, this is the sight I saw.
I can’t tell you a time I felt closer to God. It was as if my heavenly father himself had taken me by the hand and led me here then said to me, “Sit here my child. We’ve been waiting for you. We’ve pulled up a chair. It’s been awhile. Why don’t you stay awhile? Have a talk with your mom.”
I sat in the chair that had been strategically placed right in front of the crypt where my mother rested peacefully. At that very moment I poured out my heart to my mom as tears streamed down my cheeks. Words between sobs of guilt for not visiting her more, before and after her death, of gratitude for her constant love and support which I missed incredibly, of respect for her endless time and energy she gave unselfishly to others, and of regret for not being the grown up friend to her I should have been more of. I told her of my fears. My shortcomings. My dreams. And my goals.
When I had cried all I could cry, I got up from my chair and left that place. Renewed. Refreshed. For I had just spent time in the presence of angels. And God. It emotionally drained me. In a good way. A way I cannot explain to others. But God and my mom and I all know. And that’s all that matters. ♡
If you are blessed to have your mother right now, please give her a kiss and a hug. For me. Or a call if she is alive, but distant. If you, like me, have lost your mother, don’t be a stranger.. There’s a chair right there waiting for you. You don’t have to wait for eternity. Like I almost did.
I love you mom! ♡ Thanks for the talk.♡
Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all.” Proverbs 31:25-30
Love and laughter,