"Grace, like water, flows to the lowest part."

 -- Philip Yancey

“Mommie”

From her son, Brad, and her daughter, Kay.

This is a memorial we wrote about our mother after her death on November 24, 2008.

Mommie gave us a love of beauty and nature.

She said that, during the winter, the trees on the horizon looked like lace in the sunset.

She always reported to us how many “hummers” had been at her feeders in the summer.

She loved her flowers in the spring and had Dow digging and planting to put her flowers in.

She couldn’t wait to see her Iris and Daffodils come up.

During the fall, she loved the leaf colors and autumn smells.

She taught us not to be afraid of storms.  In many storms, she would have us standing at the picture window watching the beauty of the wind, rain, and lighting.

We miss the beauty of Mommie’s life.

Mommie gave us a love for music. 

When she was young, she used to play for hours on our old upright piano. 

The song “Red Sails in the Sunset” will always remind us of her.

She loved  listening to classical jazz and Windham Hill instrumentals.

Years ago, she loved to twist to Elvis on her “Hi-Fi” record player.

We miss the music of Mommie’s life.

She gave us a love for home-made cooking.

There’s nothing like Mommie’s cooking.

Her cooking was more than food substance to us.

The aromas coming from her kitchen and the taste from her food fed our soul and spirit.

We miss her chicken-on-egg bread, potato salad, fresh-brewed tea, chocolate and chess pies, her scrape-and-eat sausage (because she didn’t want us to get trichinosis), her homemade yeast rolls, and her many soups.

There will never be another cook like our Mommie.

We miss the flavor that came from Mommie’s life.

She gave us a love for home.

When we came in from Little Rock or Maryville,

She greeted us with a large hug and a kiss.

She would run down to Blockbuster with us

To pick out movies to watch during the evenings.

She’d make it fun when we’d go grocery shopping together.

Throughout the years she welcomed our birds, cats, dogs, and friends.

When it was time for us to go back to our houses,

She’d slip a $20.00 bill in our hands and say, “This is for your gas.”

Then she would stand at the porch and wave us off.

She said she always hated to see us go.

Now we know how she felt.

Our hearts will forever hurt to see her go.

We love you, Mommie.

                                                  “Her children respect and bless her.”

Proverbs 31:28

Bundle in Pink

A while back when I was at one of our several locales of BAPTIST HEALTH hospitals, I was on my way towards a morning coffee and snack when I heard a screaming baby. As I kept walking towards my destination, there was this little three or four month old anchored in her stroller next to her grandfather. He was attached to an oxygen cannula and seemed to not have much leeway or energy to intervene. He could only sit helplessly by. 

I asked the grandfather--over the blood-curtling, tear-flowing screams of the baby girl--if I could please hold her. He welcomed me to please try. 

Soon I was cradling that little, sniffling, dressed-in-pink baby. She somewhat laid her head on my shoulder as I walked her in circles around the table where her grandfather sat. I patted her on the back and spoke gentleness to her. Still she tuned up pretty strong after a minute or two. It was her mother (who was in line in the cafeteria) that she really wanted. 

I handed the baby back to the grandfather. By that time the crying and screaming had renewed to its original pitch. Soon the mama appeared and scooped up her baby and all the crying INSTANTLY stopped. She thanked me for trying.

I love it when I get to love like that at work. 

I love it when I get to see love in action like the baby for her mom and the mom for her baby.

Most of my work is filled with trauma, sadness, and grief. It's a good day when part of it is filled with a little bundle of pink . . . even if it was screaming.