Sweet Little Ma....

Red was her favorite color. Shoes and purses made her happy, so did little sweet treats. She was set in her ways, but read her bible every day until she could no longer see well enough to read it. Her head was full of scripture. She would scratch our backs for a long long time when we were little. She loved having her nails done and her hair done every week.  She was quirky and particular. She liked her tea hot and if it started cooling down she wanted it warmed for exactly 17 seconds in the microwave, no more, no less. She referred to food that was not very tasty as "just medium".  She was not extremely outgoing in social groups, but she ministered to the people that were close to her in her family. She is one of those people who was pivotal in my faith, because she was my father's mother and she did not have just a Sunday morning faith. Christ was part of her daily life, and so were the scriptures.

 

I was rummaging through my grandmother's things at my parents house and came across a scrapbook that our extended family made for my grandparents 50th anniversary in the 1990s. I came across this poem that my dad wrote for my grandmother. I loved it and wanted to share it with you.

Mother

by Dan R. Owen

She's wrinkled now, her once smooth skin

Remembers when we nestled close,

And cuddled tenderly

At two, or three or seven.

She's cleaning now,

recalling days we crawled upon her floors

And slammed her doors,

As she toiled within the kitchen.

She's cooking now, with bony hands,

For herself, and a white haired man,

Recalling countless meals she made,

When gathered round her table laid with food, we prayed,

And talked of daily family things.

She's rocking now, recalling when

She rocked us slowly, closely,

Holding tight and patting out our fears, our tears, our sorrows,

And gave us strength for our tomorrows.

She's lonely now, her furrowed brow

Considers times when blonde babes

And bright eyed kindergarteners were her daily partners.

She's praying now, in quietness,

Naming our names before His throne,

As countless days and years she's done,

That God might bless us, every one.

She's reading now, with glasses on her nose.

God's book which in our hearts still grows,

Because she put it there, so many years ago.

She's lying down to sleep at last,

Unconscious how her fleeting past,

Has formed and shaped the lives we live,

And colored things yet future.

And I, her long gone middle son,

Wearied with the setting sun,

And resting neath the peaceful moon,

Remind myself to call her soon.

~DRO~

Lorie, Jennie and my dad and I recorded a few last minute hymns for little Ma's funeral. We were tired but had a good time doing that for her. She expected it after my grandfather's funeral, so how could we let her down...especially if she could be seeing us!

The service was a beautiful one. Much thanks to Andy Clausen and Mike Moore for doing the service for our family. It was a heartfelt tribute to a godly woman, who was fondly remembered. She was ready to meet her Maker. Though we miss her, we are glad she is where she truly has always wanted to be. I went by myself to Kentucky for the funeral, just because I thought it would be easier to be helpful without chasing the boys around. Earle held the fort down at home with the boys. I did get to spend some time enjoying my family and some friends while I was in Paducah.  If nothing else, a death always teaches us that life goes on, and that we need to make time in our lives for focusing on the important things. I think it is neat how God brings family and close friends to your side in times of sorrow. He wants us to see our joys, and remember our blessings.

 Lorie got to spend the past couple of months with Ma. She sat by her side daily for hours the last couple of weeks before ma passed away. Something she said to me was such a great comment. She said that on the night that ma passed away, even though she had been in the hospital bed almost unresponsive for almost three weeks, Lorie said that she had seen ma less than an hour before she died and that when my dad called her and she went back into the room after ma had died, she said it made such an impact that there is absolutely no way that there is not a spirit in a person's body. Such a difference from breath when the person's spirit resides there and then death when the body releases the spirit. I thought that was a beautiful observation.

This was the last time this past summer that the boys saw Ma. She gave them pop tarts and was so sweet with them.