~Posted by Betsy
(Tribute written to share at the funeral)
Dearest
R and A:
Happy
Valentine's Day! R, you were determined to spend this day with the love of your
life, one way or another. It doesn't surprise me...you and A have been joined
together for 57 years, and were seldom if ever apart. Now, you will never be
apart again, praise be to God, and to the Lamb!
This
letter was one that I wanted to write to you a long time ago. Not as a goodbye,
but as a thank you. A thank you for allowing me the privilege of marrying your
wonderful son, and welcoming me into a most precious family. A thank you for
the innumerable ways that you impacted me, and inspired me to be a better
person.
This
letter might have been a surprise to you, early in our relationship. Decades
ago, in my 20's, I was wise in my own eyes and not shy about teaching my elders
a thing or two. I was ignorant of how ignorant I really was. Any other
mother-in-law might have distanced herself, but you had extraordinary patience,
and unconditional love, not to mention a good sense of humor. You bided your
time, endured my immaturity, and never said an unkind nor impatient word to me.
You
and A both shared this elusive fruit of the Spirit--the fruit of Patience. You
were so well matched in that regard. It's not often that one can count on
someone always being self-controlled and even-keeled. But we could all count on
you both. You understood the value of measuring your words, and controlling
your tongue. Because of that, I felt secure in your love, and even felt free to
disagree with you from time to time.
One
thing I always admired about you was your ability to disagree without being
disagreeable. You enjoyed a rousing debate, and never took offense at the
opposition, nor expected them to take offense. You truly respected people and
their rights to their own opinions. And you counted on them to respect your
opinions as well.
Yet
you used to chide yourself at times, saying that you were too blunt and always
spoke your mind. Funny how we don't see ourselves the way others see us. To me,
you had the gift of being honest and yet not offensive nor disrespectful. I so
admired that about you.
Another
thing I've always admired is how you never rushed through life. You were
completely in the moment, whatever that moment was. To you, there was nothing
unusual about sitting for long stretches of time on your enclosed porch,
watching birds at the feeder. If they were flitting about, showing their
colors, eating the food you put out, and providing such joy, our supper or
chores could wait awhile. Or if you were out working in the yard, and a
neighbor passed by, you welcomed the opportunity to stop your work and chat for
a long time. Multi-tasking was not in your vocabulary. You understood that
hurrying always empties a soul...that it doesn't make up time, but rather
throws it away. Psalm 39:6 says, "We
are merely moving shadows, and all our busy rushing ends in nothing."
In
your last days in the nursing home, you continued exhibiting patience and
forbearance with others, 'though not always with yourself. We will never forget
how often you tried to sneak out of bed by yourself--and the bed alarm always
ratted you out. You were determined to get up alone, move alone, walk
alone--all the things you were forbidden to do, and really couldn't do. Our
favorite story was the time Grandpa finally had enough and warned you that if
you moved one more inch, he was going to sit on you. You quickly scooted back
up on the bed!
I
have stored up decades of rich memories with you, and such a great love for you
has grown in my heart, that I can hardly express it. Who will sit for hours and
listen to my children talk on and on? Who will make me vanilla milk as a
practical joke, when I meant "white" milk? Who will teach me things I
never knew--about birds, about fine-quality clothing, about politics, about the
Civil War from a southerner's perspective? When will I ever again enjoy a
homemade potato salad with every piece of potato the exact same size? Or a rich
peach cobbler unsurpassed by any?
As
precious as these memories are, nothing can compare with the scene in heaven on
Friday night. Grandpa was there to greet you, laughing joyously at the
amazed sparkle in your vivid blue eyes as you beheld for the first time the
splendor of what Christ prepared for you. One look was all you needed to know
that all the pain was worth it. And to think that you have the rest of eternity
to express your thanks to Jesus, for paying it all!
So
thank you, R, for running the race, and finishing well. Your example inspires
me to be a godly mother, and grandmother someday.
Goodnight,
sweet mother-in-love. See you again soon.