It's been three years, Mom. The loss of time spent with you is no longer my waking thought. It's been months since I burst into tears while out shopping. Not a day goes by, however, when I don't think of you.
|River Cess, Liberia, West Africa c1968|
In the last "real" conversation we had you asked me to be sure Dad was taken care of. We're doing our best, Mom. I can't help wondering what it would have been like if you'd lived just a few more years and moved up with Dad. The great grands you'd have met, the adventures in the snow you loved....and yet, I still rest in the bedrock belief that the God you loved and served so well had numbered your days.
Every Christmas I begin to do little things in your memory - things others aren't even aware of...you loved Christmas so...I can only imagine how you have loved celebrating Jesus face to face.
I miss you, Mom.
|Philippine Islands c 1979|