A Tribute to A Special Woman 5/14/17

     Good early evening, on this Mother's Day.

      Please notice the request at the end.  It would make me happy, hearing your responses.

      May you have a terrific day.  I know I will.   The Innkeeper

      A special thanks to all the mothers reading this today. Your work is unending.  Often not appreciated.  Thank you,  for your role.  Your
children are safe, and sane, because of you.  They were----or are----well tended to, because of you:

Sweater, n.:  garment worn by a child when its mother is feeling chilly.  ~Ambrose Bierce

       Mothers, society appreciates the values you instill in your children.  I'm thankful my mom demonstrated unending love and grace.

        For women who had hardworking, sacrificial, loving, caring, faithful, diligent mothers, isn't it humbling to know that:

Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee

Calls back the lovely April of her prime.                                                  ~Shakespeare    

        My mother died in my arms.  On her birthday more than eight years ago.  I had been playing the guitar, gently serenading her.  The day before, when I saw her, she had been in a coma for two weeks.  My two sisters did not tell me.  It was my older brother who lives in Oregon who told me. 

       Arriving at her room, she was unconscious.  I asked a son to open the guitar case, planning to serenade her lifeless body. When she heard my voice, she sat up in the hospital bed. 

       She opened her eyes.  She spoke, saying, "Let's go!"  She had waited. For me. 

       I was her favorite child.  I didn't ask to be. It was the spunk I had since a child, she admired. Resisting adverse stimulus while in her womb, I learned. (Yes, really. It's a long story.)  Mom wished she had my moxie.  

     While she was fully conscious, sitting up in her hospital bed, for five-and-a-half hours, I played the guitar.  I sang until 11:30 p.m. as she blinked at me and my sons. 
   

       Afterwards, I thanked her for being my mom.  I knew at any moment she was going to die.  The hospital told me so.  She died the next day at 6:30 p.m. 

      We shared a special con-versation that  Friday night.  I knew it would be our last.  I ended our time by gently planting little kisses all over her right cheek. 

      After I left, she slipped back into her coma. 

       Two weeks later, I played the guitar when we gathered to bury her.  I sang, "Just A Closer Walk With Thee." Whenever I would visit her---and brought my guitar---she'd ask for that song.  "When I die, please play it, at my funeral." 

       I'm grateful I was with mom during her final moments. 

       She still lives deep within me.  Though no longer present, I'm grateful for the fingerprints she left upon my soul.  Today's gratitudes focus on my dear, sweet, mom, Cecilia:

1. I'm thankful for her humor.  

     To see the lighter side of life, I learned from Mom.  This inn would not exist, if it weren't for her.  My hope, gratitude and joy are gifts first awakened by my mother. 

      Her nurturing, encouragement and love were my first experiences bonding with someone who cherished me deeply, unconditionally. 

2. My outlook in life was influenced by her kindness and gentleness.

     I learned to overlook a matter---to have grace---from her. 

     Lord knows how often she tolerated my mischievous nature. As a young boy, I lit my house on fire, twice, for instance. 

      From her, I learned to ask, "how important is it?"  She was a model of patience. 

      Many issues that would consume me, if not careful, are now not seen as worth any grief.  Without my mom's influence, this inn of positivity wouldn't exist.

3. I'm grateful for the values she taught.  

      She---while I was a lad---instructed how to connect with God.  From her, I learned values. Her example demonstrated how to be considerate towards all. 

      And to see humor, during difficult times. 

4. I'm grateful for her faith. 

      Kneeling alongside her when she prayed, I witnessed earnestness in prayer.  She impressed upon me the importance of talking with God.  I learned how to still myself.  How to get away from distractions that can get in the way of having Quiet Time. 

     This habit helps me make it through the day, and week, and month.  I fully live when I connect with God.  I discover I am as strong---spiritually---as I am in prayer. 

      If this area is strong, so am I spiritually.

5. I celebrate her deep love for music. 

      Because of her passion for it, I love music and am a musician. Thanks, Mom, for awakening an appreciation for a language that conveys emotion in many soul-satisfying ways.

6. I'm thankful for her cooking.  

     Warm memories I have of her, working in the kitchen.  The meals she prepared for us kids, were exceptional.  I loved the cakes she baked.

     Her resourcefulness in feeding her large brood---satisfying a family of eight---was a regularly feat of hers.

7. I am grateful for her laughter. 

  Thinking of her, my heart warms as I see her eyes spark-ling and hear her laughter resonating within the halls of my memory.

8. I'm thankful one day, I'll take a trip to where she is. 

     I will enjoy her touch.  I will hear, once again, her laughter.  I'll be able to take in her loving looks and luxuriate in her love.

9. Most of all, I deeply appreciate the love she had for me.  

    Though tired---worn weary---tending to six kids, she had time for me.  I thrived and am who I am, because of her tender love.  I would not be one hundredth the man I am, without her influence in my life.  

    I agree with the following:

If the whole world were put into one scale, and my mother in the other, the whole world would jump off the beam.   ~Lord Langdale

      Thanks Mom, for being an example of God's giving, gentle, unconditional, and gracious love.

How About You?
Readers, may I invite you to share your gratitudes about your mother?  I'd love hearing them.