Light...

It's hard to write in a single post a tribute to a Mother who has been an integral part of my life- so many of my special memories, who I have become or, more importantly now, who I aspire to be.  One thought has come to mind repeatedly as I've contemplated this tribute to Mom and that is one of LIGHT. 

For those who knew Mom, she has always loved LIGHT and everything associated with it.  Her home is filled with small beacons of light-emitting treasures she has collected over the years. Everything from a small village of crafted houses on her fireplace mantel complete with a lit tree and even a small moon that can be illuminated, candle-like bulbs glowing on top of candlesticks carefully placed around the home, light up pens, holiday-themed light-up pins she wore with a beaming expression on her face, a UFO refrigerator magnet that lights up and plays “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” theme music, and Christmas lights!  As a child, I recall comments from neighbors about our driveway looking like an airport landing strip because of the many lights (lampposts) that lined it. Her love of light was one of the many things that made life magical for us as children and has carried on with each of us into the sometimes “wonder-less” years of adulthood.

As I've gotten older and have had some of my own experiences in “growing up”,  I have realized that the association of LIGHT I feel with Mom  has come from the unconditional love she has always had and shown.  Like a super power, Mom's sense of intuition never let her down and she would immediately come to the rescue whenever she felt any of us were in need.  Having struggled with depression over the years, my life has been illuminated many times by a phone call, letter or even an unexpected visit from Mom (even though it meant she had to drive almost 300 miles each way) when she was concerned and wanted to “just be there” for me. During one particularly difficult time, Mom called me every morning for about three weeks before I left for work to express her love and concern and would comfort me with an uplifting scripture or story she had felt impressed to share.  Many of those mornings, I would kneel down, arms folded with my phone speaker turned on while she said a prayer asking for our Heavenly Father's (God) help for me to feel His love and some light in my life.  Those sacred moments, along with support of loving family and friends, were that light in my life that she had prayed for – they lifted and helped me then and will always continue to do so. 

As I think about Mom (and while typing this am looking at a her picture), her countenance radiates light. She shared that light with everyone around her and my heart is full of gratitude especially for the light of her faith.  A picture hangs on a wall in my parent's home that portrays two of Christ's disciples, Peter and John, running to the sepulchre on the morning of the resurrection. Displayed within the matted part of that image,  is the simple yet profound message  “He Lives”.   I recall with affection the Christmas when my parent's received the picture and the tears that were shed by Mom and all of us as we contemplated the message and reality of Christ's resurrection and, in turn, our own. So grateful for the LIGHT of the truth that we will see her again and be together forever.  This knowledge brings peace to my aching, broken heart and was instilled in me by a wonderful, faithful, loving mother.

Love you Mom!

Mike

(Mikey Doo)