These moments from the last few weeks with Mom are scattered about in my brain and I am carefully sweeping them up and gathering them together in my arms, held close to my heart forever. These recent memories I trace back to my strongest, early memories of Mama. I was 4. We lived on a rice farm in Arkansas. Mom would walk her five children (me returning with her, still too young) to school in a row along the top of the rice levee ditch. Carrying a hoe in one hand, ever watchful for the water moccasins that sometimes came out and stretched themselves along the ditch bank. She was fearless with that hoe. I still have flashcard images of her doing war with her weapon of choice; killing snakes longer than she was tall. Chopping off their heads, holding the still wiggling body at the end of the hoe handle, tossing it aside, telling us kids it might not have a head but it would wiggle until the sun went down. She kept inventory. During our six months living there she proudly proclaimed that she killed 19 snakes. I'm sure she did.
She carried that warriors heart that fought the snakes throughout her life. Doing battle against the times. Partnering with my father; making the best world possible for their children to grow in. Ingraining within us the importance of education and the example of consistently working hard and more importantly the example of believing and trusting God for all things.
They have told us yesterday, Mama had 2 days to a week left. They stressed how important it was for us to see her now while she is still aware. Holding her hand and looking into those blue eyes, a mouth struggling to form words with a tongue refusing to obey. Letting us feel her love and somehow asking the question, "Where's James" waiting for that last son to arrive as he travels over the highways from Virginia to see Mom. She will be aware until he is here to say goodbye. Her warrior heart always fought for her children and she will fight to tell us all goodbye, to let us know we are loved, no matter.
I wish I could show you those flashcard memories but the album is too big. Stretching over my nearly 73 years. Image after image becomes vivid in my memory always there. A life painted with love. Daddy told me one day when I was fighting with Mom, "Sure she may be wrong sometimes. But always remember that everything she does, she does out of love." It is true. The things she did were the result of the love from her heart. What a tremendous legacy to leave behind. I hope I can follow her example. I will take up my vigil with brothers and sister; our way of letting Mom
