We all have been touched in some way, shape or form by the cold hands of death. Having experienced the death of a mother I can attest to the fact that death stings. One of the things that I’ve done is to access resources on grief and loss. A very helpful coping technique which I got from the book “Grieve if you Must” is writing letters to the deceased loved one. It is my fundamental belief and conviction that my mother will never be able to read this letter. It is hoped that the sentiments shared will resonate with those who understand the silence of death and those who struggle with the pain of an undeliverable letter may find hope and peace in intense reflection.
Dear Mama,
It’s been almost nine years since you’ve been gone but the pain is still so real. For the most part I cope well throughout the year but some days like, mother’s day, your birthday and the anniversary of your passing are usually harder to get through. On some occasions when monumental achievements are attained I feel sad because I hate the fact that you have missed out on so many of the things that would have made you very proud.
Your departure has left deep wounds that will continue to take a lifetime to heal. I know for me, I struggled with feeling displaced after you were gone. As I sit here trying to use words to capture the feeling that overtakes me whenever I am on my way home, I fail miserably. You see Mama, home for me was always where you were. And that meant so much. In some ways it was my source of stability, emotional support, financial backing and a reservoir of love that kept me coming back for more. When the challenges of life began to set in, a simple call home would help to ease the burden.
I still remember, like it was yesterday, the feeling of returning home during my college days. Oh, how I looked forward to your infectious smile. We shared so much, laughing, singing and talking over some of life’s great challenges. The wisdom gleaned from such conversations has never left me. I sat at your feet and listened to stories upon stories about your childhood years or we would just sit down and laugh at old jokes that we’ve told over and over again. Oh how I wish I could relive just one more of those moments.
I miss being the first to wear one of your classy hats or a nice pair of shoes you bought; I would enjoy a belly full of laughter as I listened to you expressing your complete and utter annoyance and disgust at my audacity. I miss the days when you would get up at 6:00 in the morning, and as you enter my room you’d be singing your early morning chant “come Chauna daylight long time! Get up outta di bed and come fix mi breakfast”. Your deep sense of humor just would not allow you to miss an opportunity to laugh at a joke even if it was at your very own expense. The tenderness and warmth of the environment that you created all added to that homely feeling. The void you left is not fillable by any stretch of the imagination. But I just want to write to express my gratefulness to you for leaving behind a legacy so rich. For generations to come, the mention of your name will continue to bring a feeling of warmth and tenderness to the hearts and minds of its hearers.
Most of all Mama, I want to thank you for introducing me to the simple childlike faith which has served to strengthen my daily sojourn here on this Earth. You weren’t blessed with earthly riches, but you left a very handsome amount in your heavenly bank account. Even to this day, we stand as beneficiaries of the heavenly investments you’ve made throughout the years. In retrospect, it may have been by divine providence that God chose to remove you from the picture. Your absence has lifted my focus on to where my true home is. You spent your life pointing me to it, but somehow I failed to see it. Today however, it is crystal clear that my life’s mission and purpose is to live a life for God and ultimately claim my true home, my eternal home.
The profound principles and life-lived lessons, which you have bequeathed to me, have removed any possible doubts of your eternal home being anywhere else but Heaven. With sentimental anticipation I savor the inspired words of Guy Penrod
“Knowing we can spend a lifetime reminiscing on the past,
knowing I will see your face again where tender moments last.
It makes me want to go there, knowing I won’t be alone,
knowing you’ll be there makes it easy to go on”.
I will continue the journey on this side of life, yearning for the grand reunion. For now, I will hold dear those memories that have served to sweeten my journey until together we finally make it to our eternal home.
Faith in Focus: Devotions for Professional Women 