My mom’s birthday would have been tomorrow. Her hair would still have been dark brown, almost black, but probably sprinkled with a few more silvery strands. These are years she should have seen, though I’m sure she observes still just from a different vantage point.
I still see her in my son’s smile, an impish grin or laugh. It’s her laugh I remember, not a half hearted giggle, but a loud guffaw that comes from the gut. It’s her sense of justice, verbally correcting the wrong as she saw it. And it’s the welcoming home that was a refuge to the fatherless always with a simple presence and a plate of food.
She took this crazy world in stride, for the most part, traveling around the world in a heartbeat for a daughter’s wedding, moving away from family for the sake of ‘the ministry’, and leaving faith (among other character traits) embedded in three daughters.
I like to think that the words that reach you are a result of the tending and diligence and teaching she gave. In this way her legacy and love continues and spreads to you.
“Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.” Philippians 4:9