Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted. ~ Matthew 5:4
As is the nature of grief… it can lay dormant for days, weeks, months, and years at a time. And though it may lose its intensity as time passes—it maintains its grasp. It can float in on the softest of breezes. A whisper from a mistaken voice. An imaginary glimpse. A warm flush on the cheeks. A familiar scent. The sight of an old photograph. The simplest things can reveal grief’s presence accompanying the precious memories of a loved one who has transitioned into eternity.
My mom transitioned—Labor Day weekend 2017. I miss hearing her sing her gospel songs, praying, or calling my name for the umpteen time. I miss walking by her door and peeping into the room to see her reading an inspirational book. I miss being able to walk into her room and hug her. Tell her my dreams, plans, and hopes. Believe her when she would say, “You can do it. I’m so proud of you.” She always encouraged me… I miss my mom!
The photograph below captures the last season of her life when she could walk without assistance. She lived many years after the picture was taken. As her health began to decline, I became her primary caregiver. I am so thankful for those years—the opportunity to give back to her—just a fraction of what she gave me as my mom.
My brother wrote the song below. It helps to comfort me today. My brother is extremely talented. I enjoy looking at his drawings and paintings. I am thankful for him. As well as the unwavering love and support of my husband and daughter who are also pictured in the photograph.
Our family was everything to my mom. She raised her children to love and be kind to each other. An upbringing that has followed us into adulthood.
To all who mourn, remember Matthew 5:4, … “for they shall be comforted”.
God bless… I am Wiley’s granddaughter.
