Eyes Wide Open

My mother died one week ago today in Fargo, ND (heart-attack). She was 61 years old.

I’m not sure where to begin, but to say that “the Lord is gracious and kind” would be an understatement. I pray these comments reflect just that.

My mom was born 13th out of 14 children and lived all of her growing-up years on the farm. Her life was filled with such complexity, so many battles, so many personal demons. Yet, she left an indelible mark on so many. This weekend I heard stories of how she and her sister Carol participated in 4-H and ran around town chasing boys, in no particular order. I heard of how she met my dad in high school and they were married not long after she graduated. I heard from my sister DeAnn, who told me mom would always be waiting for her at home after school to hear of the day’s events, often with fresh-baked cookies or other goods.

I heard from a man who knew my mom from riding the bus to work every day. He said she was so kind to him. I met two nuns, one who serves as the director for an assisted-living care center where mom worked for the last 18 months or so. They spoke candidly, but compassionately of what a wonderful caretaker she was. I even met some of her co-workers from a local hotel where she worked as a housekeeper, I know they loved her dearly.

The paradox here is that mom did so well to take care of everyone else, but when it came to taking care of herself and her children, she fell short most every time. You see, my Mom was an alcoholic…and she knew firsthand the perils of mental illness. She had made her way out of homelessness (thanks to the transitional housing programs through the YWCA of Fargo) in recent years. Yet, for every one redeeming story we heard, there were 5 more any of us could tell that would make your heart break. But we didn’t tell those stories. Not this time. This time we honored my mother, first because she is a child of God, and secondly because we know that mom’s struggle is finally finished, it is over. She is now, finally, at rest. And for this we rejoice in the One who makes all things new…who can take even the most painful tragedies of life and bend them for good, even as He did on the cross.

I met first cousins for the first time (I have at least 70 from my mom’s side). I was reunited with Aunts and Uncles, some who I had not seen in 15 years. I witnessed first-hand true hospitality as my sister’s in-laws who live near by opened their hearts and their home to our family. For me, however, the Love of Christ shined brightest through a little community of faith called the First Presbyterian Church of Tulsa and another little community of Jesus-followers from the University of Tulsa. The cards, letters, emails, phone calls, and prayers continue to demonstrate the beauty of the body of Christ. Please continue to pray for my little sister Jennifer; she was living with my mom and now makes her way amidst a myriad of challenges.

I feel a little older today, whatever that means. Some call it a “Coming of Age.” What I do know is that today, Ash Wednesday, reminds us of our mortality as we begin a season of preparation that leads us to the cross, where, out of death…comes life eternal for all who believe.