As tributes go, I couldn’t possible write one worthy of my mother. She is one remarkable woman. She is the matriarch of our family. She is the spiritual glue which holds us together. At 65 years old she still teaches kindergarten in an inner city school. She is their hero as well as mine.
Throughout her life, my mother has given to others. As a pastor’s wife she represented Christ to her parishioners. She has always been held in high regard by those who know her. I will never forget the time I had a social gathering at my house and one of the ladies from the church said, “Your mother would be proud.” It made me feel great to know that I, in some way, had emulated her. It wasn’t about my culinary skill; it was about the ability to make other’s feel at ease, even comfortable. Hospitality is another of my mother’s many gifts.
God has chosen to bless this part of my life with the honor of having my mother close by. For years my parents lived far from us. I didn’t realize how much I missed having my mother around until they moved back to town several years ago. When my darkest hour hit, my mother was there, not only hold me, but to help me begin to put the pieces back together again. I treasure the fact that I can call her at any time and know that she will drop everything to have coffee with me, pray with me or simply let me know that she is present.
What I know of parenting, I have learned from my mother. I know that Mentholadum, when applied to most anything (except feelings), heals almost instantaneously. I have learned the power of prayer is mightier that anything else in the lives of our children. I have learned that a mother’s love is unconditional, absolute and definitive.
So on this day, I rise up and call my mother, blessed.
This I know for sure.