From the Heart
When someone is loved, their story is told by the ones left behind to be shared with the next generation. Oh, the stories that will be told … about my mother.
Most who read my column never met my mother, yet you knew her. The way she lived her life made an impact on so many through my stories about her.
A couple of years ago, Mom sat down with my daughter, Emily, and planned her funeral. It was something I just couldn’t do.
Covid changed those plans.
We knew she would probably die of old age. She died from complications from having Covid. Blood clots. She became a statistic of the pandemic.
Emily and my daughter-in-law Angie planned to put together family pictures to be displayed at her funeral. Covid canceled that.
We knew there would probably be a fairly long line at her visitation. There was no visitation.
There were just 23 off us at her funeral. Telling people that we had to be safe and have a private family gathering was difficult. I knew some feelings would be hurt.
We came up with the idea of Facebook Live, allowing those who were my friends to watch via social media.
At the celebration of her life, my friend, Pastor Corinne Gunter, spoke of how while we grieve the loss of someone so dear to us, we are also grateful for the time we shared with them. It is our choice to focus on the grief or to focus on the gratitude. We chose gratitude.
Grateful for the memories. The meals she prepared. The Sunday School songs she taught. The hot dogs she fried. The scriptures that meant the most to her. We shared those things with the people who were watching her service.
Remembering the things, she tried to teach me and I refused, sewing and crocheting. She finally raised a white flag of surrender and I was able to back away from the sewing machine and put down the crochet needle.
And oh, the love that would remain. In the quilts she made. Her recipe for chocolate gravy.
The recording of her alto voice singing “Jesus loves me.” Her unique definition of people being “funny turned.” Her reminders of not going outside with your hair wet and catching your death of pneumonia.
These things will keep her memory alive. We will laugh. We will wipe tears. All because of a life that was well lived and a woman who loved well.
I wanted people to hear how she loved us and how we loved her. Perhaps a hundred? Maybe more. My heart hurt as I thought how my mother had been celebrated by so few.
But …
On Tuesday evening I decided to watch the video of her funeral.
1,200 showed up on the video.
Over a thousand viewers watched as we celebrated her life. Many more than would have if Covid had not changed the way we celebrated.
Mom was still making a difference in the lives of others, even after her passing. Her story will continue to be told by those of us who were blessed to be part of her life.
Mom got the last word … to the many who celebrated her life. Complications of Covid may have been her cause of death, but it will not stop her stories from being told. Her daughter will make sure of that.