My Mother's Legacy

Today we laid my mother’s ashes to rest with my father’s at Fort Leavenworth, KS. There are still matters of estate to wrap up, but today is a final step in many ways. I have kept her ashes since December waiting for the time when most of us could get together for the burial. I have deliberately not looked at the wooden container as much as possible. To do so brings grief. I carry enough as it is.

My mother was a strong, independent woman of deep faith. With my father in the Air Force for much of my childhood, she had to run the house, corral three kids, and take care of finances. My father would come home on leaves, but he would be gone months at a time. She was comforter, nurse, disciplinarian, room mother, and more. I don’t remember a milestone or special event of mine that she wasn't a part of.

Going through her cedar chest, we found all manner of memorabilia of the three of us. She even kept my grade cards from elementary school. Photos, baby clothes and shoes, and records that were special in piecing together her life. Grade cards, baptism record, high school diploma (she was the top of her class), photos, and even records pertaining to her parents. It was a rich treasure trove of a life well spent.

My mother grew up and matured during the Depression years and nothing was wasted in our household. She kept meticulous financial records, recording every purchase no matter how small. Living on military pay wasn't easy. I remember when we would sometimes have pancakes for dinner and thought it was a treat. It wasn't until I was an adult that I realized it was the end of the month and money was tight.

My mother did not have the means to go to college, but seemed content being an at home mom. My father dropped out of high school and joined the Army. He finally got his GED, a source of pride, and rose to the rank of Captain in the U.S. Air Force. They both wanted better for us and worked hard and sacrificed much to give the three of us a college education. My inheritance wasn't money as much as it was the skill and love of lifetime learning and better jobs. They believed it would be a better inheritance for us, and it was.

My mother lived long enough to see our son, her last grandchild, graduate from college. At 91, she flew to New York with us to see him graduate from West Point. She was thrilled. Even more, she was grateful to the Lord that he had given her enough years to see it. She had a great sense of satisfaction that she had seen all nine of her grandchildren graduate from college. And all her grandchildren loved her dearly and many tears were shed at her memorial service. Every one of them had the chance to speak last words to her in the final week of her life. I remember her telling my son to be good and always do his best. He promised her he would, and I know he will.

As I proofread this, I see the phrase, “My mother” is everywhere. Normally, I would make sure my writing would not be so repetitious, but this is about her and not my writing skills. My mother was a Godly, loving person who gave life to me and even during my years of wandering and rejection, never stopped loving me. My final words to her were a heartfelt apology and she shushed me saying it never changed her love for me. I told her it was okay to let go, read her favorite scriptures to her and told her that I loved her. She lapsed into a coma the last two days of her life and passed away quietly, gently carried off to her Savior, and my waiting father.

I am crying as I close this blog entry. I miss her. But she bequeathed an inheritance of faith to me, faith in a loving, merciful God. She left me sweet childhood memories, lessons in how to have a successful marriage, and how to raise a child so he will live in relationship to God.

Mom, I will see you again. I hope to see my future grandchildren graduate from college, too; to see my son live as you and Dad did, humbly, faithfully, and to love mercy more than judgment. If I can look back on my life at the end of it and see the same as you did, then I will count it a blessed success. I owe so much to you. I pray I will always honor you and your memory.