The Legacy
In a small notebook we found in her dresser, my mom had recorded (amongst other things) the cost of delivery when my brother was born; the hierarchy of cards in a pinochle game (albeit in the wrong order); and, her three goals in life: to be a good wife, a good mother and a good Christian.
She never went to college and only worked for a short while as a dental assistant before becoming a full-time mother of three and the wife of a high school administrator. She never aspired to political office, never amassed large sums of wealth or fame. Her dreams were simple. And she was a success in all three.
Diagnosed with a brain tumor at 34, my mom seized every opportunity to share love, share her joy for life, and share the gift of a loving God. She never met a stranger she couldn’t befriend and share the message of Christ with. No one in my mother’s life was insignificant. She couldn’t change the world, couldn’t change the course of the disease, but she could choose how to live within it, and to live full of life and love no matter what the circumstance.
It is easy, when drowning in the waves of the menial and mundane to wonder our place in this world. Head on a pillow it is difficult not to dream of higher aspirations than to successfully potty train a toddler or to help a child navigate around the school bully. We curse the constraints that we think hold us back, finances, education, exposure. It has become the American Way to be wrapped up in work, achievement and recognition. Success is defined by property, wealth, a legacy of prosperity to hand to the next generation. We do not allow ourselves to believe that to simply love each other, to raise beautiful children inside and out, to spend time cultivating relationships and truly listening to each other is enough. We think there must be more to life than piles of laundry or a sink full of dishes. We think it is up to the famous, the wealthy, the leaders of the world to make great changes. We do not realize the power is within us. Touch one life, touch the hearts of many. To love each other is no small thing. We are all significant.
A stay at home mother of three from a small Midwestern town, my mother was embraced by God on August 10, 1993. She was 46 years young.
Her funeral was standing room only.
She never went to college and only worked for a short while as a dental assistant before becoming a full-time mother of three and the wife of a high school administrator. She never aspired to political office, never amassed large sums of wealth or fame. Her dreams were simple. And she was a success in all three.
Diagnosed with a brain tumor at 34, my mom seized every opportunity to share love, share her joy for life, and share the gift of a loving God. She never met a stranger she couldn’t befriend and share the message of Christ with. No one in my mother’s life was insignificant. She couldn’t change the world, couldn’t change the course of the disease, but she could choose how to live within it, and to live full of life and love no matter what the circumstance.
It is easy, when drowning in the waves of the menial and mundane to wonder our place in this world. Head on a pillow it is difficult not to dream of higher aspirations than to successfully potty train a toddler or to help a child navigate around the school bully. We curse the constraints that we think hold us back, finances, education, exposure. It has become the American Way to be wrapped up in work, achievement and recognition. Success is defined by property, wealth, a legacy of prosperity to hand to the next generation. We do not allow ourselves to believe that to simply love each other, to raise beautiful children inside and out, to spend time cultivating relationships and truly listening to each other is enough. We think there must be more to life than piles of laundry or a sink full of dishes. We think it is up to the famous, the wealthy, the leaders of the world to make great changes. We do not realize the power is within us. Touch one life, touch the hearts of many. To love each other is no small thing. We are all significant.
A stay at home mother of three from a small Midwestern town, my mother was embraced by God on August 10, 1993. She was 46 years young.
Her funeral was standing room only.
Comments
what a beautiful woman you mother is and how blessed you are to be able to call her your mother.
I am also sure that she cherishes the fact that her 3 children and husband learned so much from her example.
-- a beautifully written tribute to a beautiful person.
Eliza Jane's dad and non-blogger
Your mom sounds like she was a gem, and your love and respect for her shine through your words.
Thank you all so much for your heartfelt responses. I know it was written more for me to celebrate my mom, but I'm so glad that perhaps her legacy still lives on and teaches us.
I will also admit I cried when I saw my dad had posted a comment. That was beyond my wildest expectations.