11:27 AM. I’ll never forget the moment when Jamison, the hospice nurse, came out of my parent’s bedroom, announcing the time of my mom’s death. That was seven years ago today.
I don’t know if I believe that seven is the number of perfection, because this seventh year feels far from perfect. This morning as the anniversary draws near, I let my mind drift back as I watch the video I put together for her funeral.
I remember as just a preschooler when Mom shared with us about an experience that she had in which she was filled with God’s love. Every day she would pray that God would continually fill her with His Love for her husband, kids, and everyone that she would come into contact with that day. In little and small ways, I got to see what love looks like in the face of Mom.
Love looks like getting up in the middle of the night to change the laundry from the washer to the dryer.
Love looks like giving up reading novels so she could spend more time with me.
Love sounds like a holler of excitement at each achievement or important milestone that I hit.
Love feels like soft arms holding and gently rocking me in a mauve La-z-boy.
Love tastes like my favorite birthday dinner — beef chimichangas and all the fixings.
Love smells like grape juice mixed with barley green, which was sure to keep me healthy.
Love looks like choosing not to speak critically of anyone and apologizing if she slipped.
Love looks like her tear-filled eyes that stung more than any spanking when I disobeyed.
Love looks like deboning fried chicken because she knew that I didn’t like the bones.
Love looks like inviting me to walk around an RV park with her.
Love feels like shaking with pain from a migraine in one moment and nursing a crying child in the next.
Love looks like constantly coming with ideas so that all of her kids could have ways to earn money “for your futures”.
Love looks like regularly budgeting my money with Mom’s help.
Love looks like learning my favorites and ensuring that I had them for special occasions.
Love looks like opening the mailbox as an adult to find a surprise gift card and “love note” from Mom.
The Scriptures say that in Christ, we are able to see what God’s love looks like. And perhaps that is good enough for most people, but I’m glad that I also was able to see what God’s love looks like through Mom.
I love you bunches, Mom.