A Story About My Mother's Graduation To Glory.

          I was five years old, and I had what a small child -- or anyone else for that matter -- would call a bad dream.  I dreamed about talking with my mother, and I was telling her in the dream she was going to die.  The dream included me as a grown man speaking to my elderly mother. Now a little kid doesn't know what to make of such things.  So I did what any little boy would do.  I ran to my mother, and I jumped up into her lap, and I was crying.  She asked me, "What's wrong?"  I told her that I didn't want to grow up."  She asked me, "Why?"  I told her, "Because ... you will die." I remember her holding me close, and she said to me something like, "That's OK, I will probably be eighty."  This sounded to a five year old boy like eternity.  So I got over my sadness and troubled heart.

     Fast forward to April 2001:  By this time, forty-six years later, I was fifty years old ... soon to be 51. The previous September, I had reached what some today call the golden age. I had recently had a mild heart attack, and I was home one day and the telephone rang. The voice on the other end of the line told me that my mother had been diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia.  I knew a good deal about this disease, because, when I was a medical lab specialist, bone marrows, transfusions and looking at grossly abnormal differentials (slides under the microscope) were common for me to be a part of, at one of my assignments. I also knew that my mother did not have much time to live.  So I left for the home of my childhood as soon as I could. At the hospital, I discovered my mother's WBC count was "through the roof." Numerous tests would solidify the diagnosis.  My mother would soon be on her way to heaven.

     A strange thing happened that day.  The Doctor standing in the room with us expressed complete reluctance at telling my mother she was going to die.  Now I have worked with a significant number of Doctors, and I know that this is not something they like to do. But I have never have encountered a Medical Doctor who was so reluctant to deliver what is thought by some to be "bad news."  My Dad certainly was in no state of mind to share this news with her.

Therefore, I somehow found myself standing over my mother's bed, holding her hands with the assignment to tell her what she already knew. Dad was sitting next to her bed.  He was devastated and heartbroken. I spoke with as much assurance and love I could when I said, "Mom, do you know you are dying?"  She smiled up at me and said, "I do, I just hate that you all are going to have to grieve." I asked her, "Are you afraid?" She told me she was not afraid." I shared with her some other personal things, but I remember the words she spoke, bathed in the love on her face, provided me with great comfort.  Just as she had done those decades before, when I was a little boy.  

A flashback occurred in my mind. The picture appeared in my heart of this little boy sitting in his mother's lap telling her that he didn't want to grow up, and of her figuring out why I didn't want to grow up. Then a wonderful memory enveloped me of her telling me that it would be OK and of her comforting me.  I had that day fulfilled that dream, and she was right. She lived to eighty ... plus a few more.

     A short time later,  we were in Mom and Dad's home.  She was in her bed, and the family was gathered around.  The hospice folks were there, and my sister, an RN,  was assisting with her pain management. Each family member expressed his/her final goodbye. I was experiencing some chest pains.  So, I excused myself, and I went to lay down for a while.  It seemed like I had just put my head down, when my sister came to and woke me up.  As I entered the room, I saw most of the family present.  We began singing hymns by our mother's bed. And she sang as much as she could.  Then she passed, and I had the greatest honor of my life, up to that time.  I was privileged to say to our precious Lord Jesus, "Into your hands, O Lord, I commit our mother's spirit."

     I have buried scores of people, and I have watched just as many die, but I have never seen such a beautiful graduation to glory up to that time.  Nor have I seen anything like it since. Today is the anniversary of her passing, and I have NO doubt that Dad and She are in that "great cloud of witnesses" cheering on our generation, our children's generation, our grand children's generation and even our great-grand children's generation. (Hebrews 12:1ff) I have not doubt that when she was "absent from the body" she was "present with the Lord. 2 Corinthians 5:8. I hope none of us let her down.  I hope all of us give our hearts to Jesus and participate in her eternal legacy.

     These memories comfort me, as my Mum comforted me.  It really is good to  know that she knew the ONE who helps us all know what it is to become children of God. It is so very good to have a legacy not of death, but of eternal life through faith in Jesus who is God's Christ.  Thanks for the memories Mum.

SoJourner