Happy Birthday, Mom

My mother died many years ago, so many that it usually isn't a sad day to remember her birthday. For some reason this year, I suppose because my oldest is nearing the age I was when my mom passed, it has hit home a bit more. My oldest daughter and I were in very different places at 21. I was a new Christian and my daughter is a seasoned believer. Taking care of my dying mom as a new believer, having taken incompletes during the fall of my senior year at VA Tech was a challenging time. My sisters and I did what we could, rotating shifts and being in our childhood home with mom until it was time to call hospice. Back then, hospice meant death was very imminent; the call to them meant they came and picked up your beloved, and they would never return home again. 

I feel I've got so much life left, and my daughter has so much life ahead of her. Officially it will be this time next year that she'll be the age I was when I last looked up from the steps to my mom, in her full state of mind, to say, "I love you" for the last time. I was taking a break from caregiving that weekend to drive the 6 hrs down to Blacksburg to stay with my pastor and his family for the weekend. 

Similarly, the October just 4 months prior, I got a call that said, "Come home now, Mom's dying." It was the late afternoon in Oct, but in Feb it was the middle of the night. Rose woke me up and I scrambled to throw my things in a bag as she pressed $20 in my hand. It was the second longest 6 hr drive of my life. The first time in Oct after that call, I went straight to the hospital. This time I went home to find a note on the door saying to go to the hospice. They had to call the ambulance to take my mom there in the night. Another 45 min drive and I was finally there with the rest of the family, much like it had been in October. 

The difference this time was that my close friend who I was soon to start dating was by my side that February. It was my oldest sister's birthday, and mom went to be with Jesus. And today, I'm just remembering the special birthday cards I would closely pick through to get just the right one and the single carnation I'd give her every year. My mom was a simple woman who didn't have much. She didn't get into decorating all fancy or getting her face waxed or nails done...she didn't have a big wardrobe. It was so small you'd barely call it a small one. She was generous and knew what it was to live with regret. Thankfully she learned before it was too late what it meant to be forgiven by the only One who can forgive our sins and set us free. 

In this season of advising young adults on the multitude of things they navigate, I think of my mom often. She was a good counselor to me. Happy Birthday, Mom. Sure miss you ♥