MOTHERS' DAY

I thought about how Pastor Sturdivant doted on his mom at church yesterday. 

"She's moving! Somebody ought to be taking pictures!" 

Just the fact that she was walking was a big deal to him. Her presence was everything to him. It was inspiring. 

That tiny lady had saved his life. She's his hero. 

You couldn't help but feel the love and admiration--and wish your own mom was there, too. 

Faith United showed love, and gave roses and a gift to every woman present, but it was clear that Mrs. Sturdivant was beloved, not just to her family, but the entire congregation.

It was lovely to greet her. When she took my hand, I searched her face. Her complexion, salt and pepper hair, glasses, and sweet smile reminded me of Mommy. 

I imagined that my Mom would have been very much like her, a bit fragile, but exuding strength, wisdom and grace; elegantly and neatly dressed, gracious, and smiling; enjoying the way everyone looked out for her; seeing no need for the fuss everyone was making, but humbled by it and appreciative of it just the same. 

Mothers' Day was easier this year. There was no heaviness, except for thoughts of friends and loved ones who, for the first time, made no calls, no visits, bought no cards or gifts, and made no reservations. They’d made no plans, except to purchase flowers to lay on a fresh grave. For them, my heart was sad.

I still miss my Mom, but yesterday was different. I can't explain it. Maybe I'm different. Maybe that resilient, determined part of my mom is finally standing up in me.

My daughter made my weekend special. Any time spent with her makes me smile.  

From the beautiful luncheon at the Ritz with the Women of Zion Church, to her family's cookout (just sitting in the yard among the beautiful flowers her cousin Pam so lovingly attends to, was so peaceful), to her surprising me at church, it was a great weekend. 

Mommy would have loved it.