It's strange the things you remember and the things you forget.  It's been 20 years today since my Mama went to Heaven.  I wonder what it's like, being in Heaven for 20 years? 

I don't remember her voice anymore.  I thought I would never, ever forget it.  I wish I had a recording of her talking, or especially, of her laugh.  I am ashamed that I don't remember. 

I remember her hands.  Calloused, but smooth.  One of her pinkies was permanently bent where it had been broken.  I never asked her what happened.  I don't remember her painting her fingernails, but I've seen younger pictures where they were painted red.

I remember her hair.  It was naturally thin and smooth, dark brown with a lot of silver by the time she died.  She wore it in a low ponytail most of the time.  Her eyes were hazel.  Green, gray, yellow and even a little blue.  Like most people with hazel eyes, they looked different, depending on what she wore.

I remember sitting in her lap, the last time when I was 23 (yes, really).  That was when I told her I was pregnant with her first grandchild.  I remember leaning my head on her shoulder and listening to her heartbeat.  At that moment, bacteria was likely setting up housekeeping in that precious heart that would take her life just a few months later.

What I remember most is her spirit.  She was the most loving, most kind and gentle spirit I have ever known.  And I know that was not by accident.  She told me often, and I saw it in her.  Everything she was came from her relationship with Jesus.  

20 years in, I miss her still.  I will always miss her.  But I am eternally blessed to have had her as my Mama.  And I am happy that she can be with Jesus.  It's what she always wanted, what she worked for, and what she wanted for all of us.  I can see her again.  I am thankful.



Published by Summer Lane