It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.
Today, I went to my mother's graveside with my father, my older sister, my younger sister, my younger brother, my daughter, my two grandchildren, my niece and my great niece. We spent some time in reflection. We remembered Mom three years ago to the day as she bravely smiled and peacefully stepped over the threshold to the Great Beyond and went to be with Jesus.
It was a good day. It was a sad day.
The sun shone down on us as Dad sat in the folding chair and the rest of us stood and sat on the concrete around Mom's veteran's plot at Mount Pleasant Cemetery in London. We laughed. We cried. Dad read a poem. I read Psalm 23 - the Lord is my Shepherd. My sisters shared special memories about the way things used to be. My brother remained quiet and pensive. My daughter and niece were the breath of fresh air and youthful exuberance as they chatted about children and life in general. The children played. Mom would have liked that. She loved family gatherings and she especially loved the little ones.
One of Mom's last request was that we remain strong as a family and that we looked after one another. It became clear to me today that that has happened. My family may be a bit of a motley crew, but our core is solid and secure and the family ties that bound, still bind us. I miss my Mom terribly and am reduced to a little girl each time I try to think of her, but I am thankful for the legacy she left behind. She taught us to laugh and to be strong. She taught us to cope and to laugh some more. She equipped us with a love for adventure and a boldness to dare. She taught me to pray when I was a little girl.
May four good angels guard my bed... two at the foot...
two at the head.
And keep me safe all through the night...
until I see the morning light...
Thank you God...
Amen.
Good night Mom...Rest well - may four good angels be guarding your bed. xx