Mondays with Mom - Beauty for Ashes...

Before my mother passed away, my sister asked her what her wishes were as far as funeral services, burial and such. Mom's only request was that her body be cremated and separated into thirds. One third  for my older brother to scatter in the mountains of Utah, where Mom and all three of us kids was born and where a majority of her life was spent. One third for my sister to scatter  in the mountains of Arizona that Mom loved to visit so much. And one third to come to me to spread on the beach here in Texas. A place my Mom only got to visit twice but was enamoured with. These are also the states that the three of us children live in.

So each of us received a box and my Daddy received a mini one to hold close to his heart.  My sister has not scattered hers, and mine sit on the shelf in my living room until the time I am ready to let them go. Mika and I both agree that we will know in our hearts when the time is right. At first I stressed over this, but I realize that in my heart I will know the exact time and the exact place that will be right for this significant occasion.

My brother scattered his portion of Mom's ashes in Hawaii on a recent vacation. He said he needed closure. When my sister told me he did this. I freaked out a bit and asked, "Didn't Mom want him to scatter his in the mountains near St. George?" to which she replied, "Yes, and I was kind of bothered too until I realized Mom didn't know Hawaii was an option!" At this I laughed and thought to myself, "Yes, this is perfect, she would have loved the view..."

When the mortuary separated the ashes there were some extra. My little sister has a friend who makes beautiful handblown glass beads and she offered to make some containing the remaining ashes of my mother. Here is what I received from my sister on this past Mother's Day.

A mobile. I am still looking for the perfect spot to hang this!

A closeup of the beads containing Mom's ashes.

A necklace with a beautiful pendant to hang close to my heart.

Beauty for ashes comes to mind. I can hang the mobile in a special spot as a sweet reminder and a part of Mom or I can wear the beautiful pendant on my neck and carry her with me. So sweet and special these are to me and they tell a story for my children too.

Credit for these beautiful beads goes to my sister's sweet friend Sangita. If you are interested in having some special beads made, you can contact her at... sangita@sangita.net. Or email me here and I will be glad to put you in touch with her.

To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified. ~Isaiah 61:3

Mondays with Mom - Like a Wind Against My Back...

I wanted to thank my sister Mika for allowing me to share  a little writing that she did a while back, just after the earthquake in Haiti. I too feel my mother "like a wind against my back"...



Like a wind against my back......

by Mika W.

I read an article about a young girl of 14 in Haiti a few weeks ago. When the earthquake hit, she rushed to the downtown area where her mother worked. She actually found her mother's body amidst the rubble. In the days that followed she found herself living with other refugees, and everyone told her to simply not think of her mom. She replied "I can't stop thinking of her, I still feel her... like a wind against my back."

 My mother died in October of last year. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer the year before, and because of complications from surgeries her quality of life was painful and difficult. I quit my job of 13 years to be with her. I spent endless hours at her hospital bedside, and cared for her in our home with the support of loving friends and family. Each day having her with me to watch my children grow, to share the details of my life was a blessing. And in hindsight, I am grateful to be able to say we did all we could to support her in healing.

 My mom was an artist. Her painting above came through her after my stepson suffered a massive brain injury and became a total care patient. It hung above his bed, watching over him until he was released from a body that could no longer serve him. Her talents with a canvas and brush were not passed to me. I got her heart and love of life.

 Like a wind against my back she pushes me on, to live the life I dream of. She whispers in my ear, don't look back.... How I pray for my little sister in Haiti, that she find her place in this world. That she continues to feel her mother's presence, and feels the blessings bestowed from somewhere beyond. I hope she is comfortable, safe and resting well.... and that she can feel my love.

I want to thank my sweet sister again for the sacrifices she and her family made for my mother in the last couple years of her life. I don't know what I would have done without her there.

Mondays with Mom... Happy Birthday...

This picture is how I choose to remember my Mom.

I was about 6 and she was about 29.

She would have been 63 years old today.

I haven't much to write.

I knew this day was coming.

It has been almost a year since her passing.

I figured it was just a date, but... it's not.

Birthdays are significant.

This was the day God gifted the world

with the presence of this beautiful woman.

I miss her.

Today I will be honest as a gift to Mom and myself.

My heart aches.

No one can replace the void she has left in my heart.

But I know she would fill that void right up to overflowing if she could.

That's just how she was.

Sometimes I am a little angry.

I think it is unfair that she is gone and the whole world continues to turn.

But I have learned that this is a part of life,

the part I wish I could skip.

But I can't and so I hold her memory close

and if I am still and I listen, I can hear her voice telling me,
just like a few days before God took her back... it is all okay.

It is all okay.

Happy birthday my sweet, sweet Mama...

Mondays with Mom... The Greatest Gifts

This is a photo of my oldest daughter at age one, me, and my sweet Mama. The reason I am showing you this is because of the jewelry in the picture. Look closely on my mother's arm. Do you see the many silver bracelets? Do you see the ring on her finger?

For about thirty years, every single day, my mother wore those bracelets and that ring. When her biological father died, she tucked one of those bracelets in his pocket at his viewing. When her stepfather died, she tucked one in his.

Two days before Mom passed, my sister and I were sitting on the porch while Mom was resting and my sister jumped up and said, "I have something for you."  She went inside and came back out with the thickest of the bracelets you see on my mother's wrist. It took a few minutes before I could even speak. I was overcome with emotion. Mika told me that she asked my Mom if it was okay to give it to me and she said yes.

Fast forward to January when Mika paid my plane ticket for my birthday to go to Phoenix to go through my mother's personal belongings. Out came her jewelry box. My mother was not an extravagant woman. She was beautiful and loved beautiful things, but could never afford diamonds and gold. As we went through the items in the box. We took turns saying what we wanted and let a lot just go. The two items that we got caught on were her wedding ring, which we were both pretty sure was only about 1/4 karat and the silver ring you see in the picture above. We settled with Mika taking the wedding ring and I taking the silver ring.

I wear these two pieces of jewelry now every single day, just like my mother did. When I look upon this hand, I see her hand. When I knit, I see her hand. When I paint, I see her hand. When I cook, I see her hand. When I smooth away the hair from my daughters faces, I see her hand.

My sister also has one of the bracelets. She holds it near and dear to her heart as I do. While we were going through Mom's jewelry, we wondered briefly where the other ones (besides the ones in her daddies pockets) were. Well, this past summer, I found out where at least one of them was. One morning, I heard Katie and Nikki arguing about a little doll that Katie was playing with. Nikki wanted to play with it, but Katie said the doll was special, that Nana had given it to her. This was true, my mother had bought the little doll for Katie at about age 2 when she was on a short layover here in Houston. Nikki looked up at me with her sweet blue eyes and cried, "Nana never gave me anything." My mother's health declined when Nikki was about age 2 and made it difficult for her to travel, so she didn't get to spend much time with Nikki. Well, of course I started racking my brain, thinking there had to be a toy that Mom had bought for Nikki, but I couldn't come up with anything. A couple of days later, I was searching for something in my closet and found a box of items from Nikki's baby shower. My friends had put together a time capsule. I opened the box and among the items in it was a sealed envelope with Nikki's name written in my mother's writing. I opened it up to find two pieces of jewelry and a letter to my little girl.

                                    My Darling Nicky,

                                            This old necklace was worn by your Great Grandma

                                    when she married Grandpa in Las Vegas. It's missing

                                    some stones and the clasp because your Mom played in

                                    Grandma's jewelry box with all her stuff. I wanted  you

                                    to have something special of hers to remember her by.

                                    The silver bracelet is mine. I have worn this with several

                                    others for over 30 yrs. One is in Great Grandpa A's pocket -

                                    he is buried  in Castle Dale, UT. And one is in Great

                                    Grandpa W's pocket. He is buried in West Valley City, UT.

                                    I wanted you to have it because it is so special to me.

                                    I love you baby girl.

                                                                                                      Nana

I read the letter to my Nikki and showed her what Nana gave her. As she listened, a beautiful smile spread across her face and she exclaimed, "My Nana really loved me!"

I know material items aren't worth much and you can't take them with you, but there is great comfort to be found in some of the objects left behind and a good many stories to be told. To me, they will be forever priceless. The paintings, the knitted afghans, the jewelry all hold my mother's memory in them. Her love and her joy have been passed to us. These are the greatest gifts.

Mondays with Mom... First day of kindergarten

Me in kindergarten (circa 1976)

I often run into days when I think to myself, "Oh, I've got to call Mom and tell her about this!" Today is one of those days. My baby is starting kindergarten. Nikki is off on an adventure on the big yellow school bus. Part of me wants to cry. Where did those years go? I will miss my little side kick. Part of me sighs in relief. Though it was fun, a long hot summer is over. We have all had our fill of each other for now and it is time for each of us to do our own thing.

What would my Mama say about today? She would tell me how she and her friend planned to open a bottle of wine on the first day of school every year, even though they were not drinkers. My sister and I laughed at this... now, we relate! She would tell me how she watched me walk down a country road to wait for the bus by myself on my first day of kindergarten, adamant that I was a big girl and didn't want her to walk with me. She would tell me to savor my time alone, organize my house and our business and embrace the creative time I have so longed for... do something for me. She would tell me how she understands and how it will get easier, the first few days were the hardest.

As I watch Nikki step out into this big world, ready to conquer it in so many ways, I remember a poem, my mother put in my scrapbook...

I Trust You'll Treat Her Well

by Dan Valentine

World, I bequeath to you today one little girl in a crispy dress.. with two blue eyes...

and a happy laugh that ripples all day long,

and a batch of light blonde hair that bounces in the sunlight when she runs.

I Trust You'll Treat Her Well.

She's slipping out of the backyard of my heart this morning

and skipping off down the street to her first day at school.

And never again will she be completely mine...

Prim and proud, she'll wave a young and independent hand this morning,

and say goodbye and walk with little-lady steps to the nearby schoolhouse...

Gone will be the chattering little hoyden who lived only for play,

and gone will be the delightful little gamin

who roamed the yard like a proud princess with nary a care in her little world.

Now, she will learn to stand in lines...

and wait by the alphabet for her name to be called...

She will learn to tune her little-girl ears for the sound of school bells,

and for deadlines...

She will learn to giggle and gossip...

and to look at the ceiling in a disinterested way

when the little boy across the aisle sticks out his tongue.

Now she will learn to be jealous...

and now she will learn how it is to feel hurt inside...

and now she will learn how not to cry.

No longer will she have time to sit on the front porch steps on a summer day

and watch while an ant scurries across a crack in the sidewalk...

Or will she have time to pop out of bed with the dawn
to kiss lilac blossoms in the morning dew.

Now she will worry about important things...like grades...

and what dresses to wear...and whose best friend is whose.

Now she will worry about the little boy who pulls her hair at recess time...

and staying after school...

and which little girls like which little boys...

And the magic of books and knowledge

will soon take the place of the magic of her blocks and dolls.

And she'll find her new heroes.

For five full years I've been her sage and Santa Claus...

her pal and playmate...

her parent and friend.

Now, alas, she'll learn to share her worship and adoration
with her teachers (which is only right).

No longer will her parents be the smartest,

and greatest in the world.

Today, when the first school bell rings,

she'll learn how it is to be a member of the group...

with all its privileges, and, of course, its disadvantages, too.

She'll learn in time that proper young ladies don't laugh out loud...

or keep frogs in pickle jars in bedrooms...

or watch ants scurry across the cracks in a summer sidewalk...

Today, she'll begin to learn for the first time that all who smile at her
are not her friends.

That "the group" can be a demanding mistress...

and I'll stand on the porch and watch her start out
on the long, long journey to becoming a woman.

So WORLD, I BEQUEATH TO YOU TODAY ONE LITTLE GIRL in a crispy dress,

with two blue eyes,

a happy laugh that ripples all day long,

and a batch of light blonde hair that bounces in the sunlight when she runs.

I TRUST YOU'LL TREAT HER WELL.

Mondays With Mom...

I have always loved to dance and I am always amazed at the expression and beauty of dance and the way that a dancer can tell a story that can touch you to the core. So You Think You Can Dance has got me so hooked this season. Every once in a while a dance on that show just catches me off guard. That is what this dance did. What a powerful story told in just a couple of minutes.

robert 7 @ Yahoo! Video

The choreographer's (whose name is Travis Wall) mother had just had a massive surgery of some sort. This dance tells how he wanted to fix her. Mia (one of the judges) had just lost her mother before the start of this season and she was reduced to tears, because she could relate. My sister who walked the entire end journey with my mom could relate. I could relate. I think anyone who has ever wanted to fix someone could relate.

One thing I find comfort in when missing my mom is that she has been released from a body of pain and no longer needs to be fixed. Thank you, God.

Mondays With Mom...

After giving it some thought and talking with a friend last week. I have decided that I just can't not write about my Mom. Writing about her helps me remember the good stuff and keeps her memory alive. So, I have changed Monday Musings to Mondays With Mom. I'll be sharing my usual quotes from Monday Musings on Tuesday Tidbits. (Thank you Chris for the cute names! :) )

This week I wanted to share a treasure my sister and I found while going through Mom's personal items last January. I take a lot of comfort in these hidden treasures. It is a poem she wrote on ledger paper. You can see where she has added numbers on the side, no doubt figuring her finances out. (Mom worried about money a lot.) If she really felt what she has written here, she was truly rich...

When I'm no longer with you,

And peace has claimed my soul.

Gaze upon my paintings,

smile and you'll know.

As I placed each vivid color,

A brush stroke here and there.

The pleasure that it gave me

is far beyond compare.

A son strong and witty,

two daughters fair as spring.

I leave them with my paintings,

to ease the saddening sting.

I'd show that I had walked here

and fulfilled every dream.

A woman painting pictures

was not quite what it seemed.

No one could know the way it

calmed my heart

and satisfied my mind.

To sign a finished painting

for someone else to find.

So gaze upon my pictures

and know deep in your being,

"She lived a blessed and happy life

for she left me all these things."

                              ~B.A.W.

I mostly have pictures. Many of the paintings have were sold or given away before she passed. I hope they bless the recipients beyond compare.