My Southern Mama Joyce (God bless her soul) might not be too pleased with Jane and me this year, since we neglected the New Year’s food traditions, i.e., no black eyed peas and hog jowl for the first time ever. Not that Mom was too into tradition, she just always knew the way things ought to be – until towards the end when such savvy only meant being near me and with the Lord.
Mom rarely spoke the last couple of months of her life. She passed eight years ago yesterday (if this article is published on 1/23/2018). But it was obvious she always knew what she liked and what was important to her. Until the end we went to church almost every time the doors opened – all churches. The conservative and liberal, Black and White, charismatic or stoic, Baptist, Methodist, and Assembly folks all loved Mom and me into their respective church families. And the prayers I know were offered for her health and care are still heart-fully appreciated.
For as long as possible, I took her to work with me each morning and on to the hospital for lunch. We laughed and shared good times, even if her laughter was only through sparkling eyes. Mom was a beautiful woman from the inside out all the way through this life. And she loved everyone around profoundly and equally – a learned trait she may have inherited as Granny Wheatley’s #13 out of 16 Depression-era farm kids.
The last couple of weeks – from Sunday morning before church on January 10th on through the Monday the 25th just before dawn – Mom slept to never reawaken in this life. As Mama J eased on into eternity, I know where she waits to welcome me, along with my Savior, Jesus, and the rest of the Family of God. Everyone should enjoy such peace about death – their own inevitable passing, as well as loved ones'. When you embrace God by a new birth relationship, trusting in Christ Jesus, as Savior, LOVE stops fear.