Pausing to Remember

Thirteen years ago, I watched my beloved mother take her last breaths in this life. It was a sad morning. A difficult morning. It was one of the few times in my life that I ever saw my daddy cry. It was on that morning, thirteen years ago, that I had to say to him, "It's over."

But it isn't over. Not really. Because there is the promise that we will see each other again. And though I still miss my mother so very much, I don't "grieve as those who have no hope" (1 Thessalonians 4:13).

Because "since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep."  (1 Thessalonians 4:14 ESV).

And so, until that day comes, I remember. And those memories make me smile.

Memories of Mother putting bows in my hair when I was a little girl.

Of cranberry tip-tops and celery stuffed with cream cheese and pecans as part of our Christmas dinner every year.

Christmas shopping in Spartanburg on the day after Thanksgiving.

Stopping at the candy counter in the old Sears store on Church Street for chocolate-covered peanuts every time we went to Spartanburg.

Her old Singer sewing machine, with the treadle, where she sewed so many of my clothes.

An orange popsicle if I promised not to cry so loud (and embarrass her!) when I got my shots. (I don't think the crying was a problem; it was the volume that was so embarrassing! For a shy, quiet girl, I could really make a scene!)

Trips to the bookmobile.

Many years later, meeting her at the airport when she flew out to Denver to visit us.

Her love of Chick-fil-a sandwiches. And her love for Keith Laws, whom she referred to for many years as "the Chick-fil-a man" because she couldn't remember his name!

Her love of the Scriptures. Even after the strokes had affected her speech and her memory, she could remember the verses she had memorized. Even until her very last days, her Bible was right beside her on the bed.

Her sense of humor. Even after her speech and memory had been so affected by the strokes, she could still laugh over the things she couldn't quite say. She would try and try to say something correctly, then laugh and say, "oh, well.....I can't say it," and then just smile.  How I loved the twinkle in her eye!

So many memories. Shopping for my wedding dress at the old Aug. W. Smith store in Spartanburg.  Celebrating Mother and Daddy's 50th wedding anniversary at the Tea House on Lake Lanier.

So many good times.  The memories of those good times eclipse the memories of those last days. I remember my mother with great joy. There's an emptiness since she's been gone, a special place in my heart that no one else could fill. But instead of focusing on those last, difficult, very sad days, I choose to remember all the good times. And doing that always brings a smile to my face, even on this anniversary of her passing.

So this morning, I pause to remember.  And to give thanks to God that I was so blessed.  To be grateful that this amazing woman, Helen Neil Austin, was my mother! 

My heart can sing when I pause to remember
A heartache here is but a stepping stone
Along a trail that's winding always upward,
This troubled world is not my final home.

  But until then my heart will go on singing,
Until then with joy I'll carry on,
Until the day my eyes behold the city,
Until the day God calls me home.

 

(-Stuart Hamblen)