I Remember Mama

After my mother was laid to rest, my siblings and I were not surprised to find that she hardly had any material wealth in her home—only the necessities of everyday living. Just enough linens, dinnerware and glassware, toiletries, and groceries for her and her househelp. Even her paste jewelry was sparse.

What filled her closets were mementos of family and friends—scholastic medals of her children, letters, scrapbooks and little knick-knacks she received as gifts.

In life, my mother was a giver. Nothing was too precious to give away to someone in need. One look at her things and we decided to give them all away, too—to the needy people whom she had helped all her life.

"You can have this," my sister said, handing me mom's wrist watch with tiny rhinestones, and with a matching bracelet.

Mom won that watch as a door prize in our clan reunion. When mom opened the box, I gasped with admiration. She smiled and immediately said, "Here, you can have it."

"No, it's yours!" I replied.

Now, with mom gone, I was saying the same exact words to my sister, No, it's yours!"

We didn't put it into words, but my sister and I both wanted to remember our mother for the way she lived, not for what she left behind.

We commemorate Mom's death anniversary every Easter. But it was on a Good Friday, April 18, seven years ago, when Jesus took her to live with Him and His angels for eternity. She was 83.

So today I remind myself of what I always say to friends who have lost a loved one, "Remember her/his life, not her death."

(My siblings and I smile, remembering God's boundless grace in Mama Chit's long life.)

(Flowers sent from the US by best cousin, Minna, and her siblings)