|My mother and father|
Picture taken sometime in the sixties.
This year I had four friends say good-bye to a parent and it is devastating how crushing that can be in ones life. To have your biggest fan, your hero, the person who brought you life, and gave you guidance.
This week marks seven years since we said good-bye to the most AMAZING woman ever, my mother. Josie Mears
September 3rd 1935 in a holler on the banks along the river in the New Caney Valley, Tazewell, Tennessee.
December 7th 2004 in the arms of her son and husband, in her home of 35 years on Jordan Rd. West Alexandria, Ohio.
Her folks were sharecroppers and her father was the communities’ preacher (Southern Baptist). She was the youngest of nine children and the only one to graduate high school. She grew up in what could at best be called a shack. She told a story that one of her chores as a kid was she had to “sweep the yard” that’s correct sweep, not mow the yard but sweep it. She said with her eight brothers and sisters, along with all the other kids from up and down the valley playing in the yard, add to that all the neighbors who called on her father for help that grass never had a chance to grow.
She was a beautiful person with a great soul and cancer took her from us to soon.
At her funeral it was literally standing room only, the folks at the funeral home said it was at that time undoubtedly the largest attended funeral they had hosted
Family Pastor Dan Mullins spoke of how God sent his only son to die for our sins and that for those of us who accepted him as our savior we would have everlasting life in heaven and would see her again….. Me, I gave her eulogy.
I knew no one could eulogize my mother, but me. The night before the service I sat down at a computer and typed out what I wanted to say…. Knowing that I wanted wrote down exactly what I wanted to say so in the moment I would not forget something important, or, if grief over-took me I could ask the pastor to step in and read what I wanted said.
As I sat at the computer that night, it was the oddest experience; it was like I was having a outer-body experience like I was just floating above myself watching my body strike the keys on computer, I was not conscious of what I was doing and after the funeral I could not remember writing it. Now as I look back and re-read the words and the message I spoke that day…. I’m sure someone gave me a lot of help.
Around this time each year I get out a binder full or sympathy cards and letters of love and support that I kept from family friends. I think that’s a little odd if I do say so, but it just seems to still be part of my grieving possess.
In this binder is a copy of her eulogy….
Tomorrow I will share it with you….