Today is Mother's Day, the day when most everyone posts a picture of themselves with their mother on FaceBook. Sadly, as I look through the many photo albums in our home, there are very few pictures of my mother and I together. I have come to the conclusion this is what happens when the "family photographer" passes the trait on to her child. In the photo albums of me growing up, my mother was always the one taking the pictures, and as time progressed I gradually took over as the one behind the camera. Consequently, opportunities to be in pictures together were very rare.
Thankfully, although there are no actually pictures, there are many memories which float through my brain, especially on days such as today. There were many times of "helping" in the kitchen, with my favorite being the baking. If vanilla was involved we always had to smell the wonderful aroma. Birthdays meant getting to page through a little book of decorated cakes and choosing our favorite for the year, knowing a party with family was always part of the plan.
As I sing the alto line of the hymns at church, I think back to sitting by my mother in church and hearing her do the same. Perhaps it is the reason singing harmonies comes so easy. Although I don't remember her often playing the piano, I do remember her teaching me a catchy little duet. She would play the chords on the bottom and I would play a variety of tunes to fill in on the upper notes. Not long ago I found myself teaching my grandchildren some of the same tunes, only this time I was the one playing the bottom chords.
During this season of planting flowers, my mind often drifts back to helping her fill the front planters with petunias and geraniums and the back planter with moss roses. Work the dirt, dig the holes, fill them with a drink of water first, then add the starter plants. Gardens were also a part of the summer routine, although my favorite part came when the peas were ready to eat straight from the shell!
Looking back on our wedding, I now realize how much my mother contributed, especially since the date was only three days after Christmas. She always made the holidays extra special, and I can now see and appreciate the extra effort she put into throwing a wedding into the mix. Of course, at the time, I was more interested in my future husband than tending to details, so it's a good thing she was there to help pull it off.
When our daughter arrived and I needed to go back to work after four months off, she was there to volunteer her services as a babysitter. They lived five miles out in the country, and she offered to drive in every morning so I wouldn't have to wake the baby if she was still sleeping. It was another example of the "above and beyond" she invested in everything she did.
It was tragic to lose her at such a young age. She suffered a brain aneurysm at the age of 68, leaving a huge hole in our lives. Yes, something is missing, and it is much more than pictures. But the good news is we have the hope and assurance in God's Word there will come a time we will once again be together. Although I must confess Mother's Day seldom comes and goes without a few tears shed, it is comforting to know God's love and faithfulness never come up missing, giving me reason to simply smile and whisper heavenward, "Happy Mother's Day, Mom! See you again in God's perfect timing!!"
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