In the last few days, I've had to tell a lot of people that my mother passed away, but
every single time I've said it, it sounded like I was talking through a cup. The low
muffled sound of my voice could only say a few brief words of sorrow. The words "my
mother" did not even come close to describing how much she meant to me.
In my twenty plus years, she's been my friend, my teacher, my assistant, and
sometimes even my loan officer. She taught me a great deal, perhaps more important
lessons than I learned in all of my formal education. She taught me a lot about strength,
endurance, and most importantly about life.
I can still hear her soft voice instructing me to complete certain tasks. She would ask
me to cut the grass. When I finished she would admire the sweet fresh smell that filled
the air. Often, she would want me to help move heavy objects from room to room.
When we were finished she would make us a tall glass of ice tea. I can still remember the
peaceful sounds of the spoon clicking the sides of the glass as she stirred it repetitively.
Most of all, it was her strength and willingness that taught me the important things in life.
Living through pain that she endured every day brought a new meaning to the word
strength. Bouncing back from every illness with the willingness to continue with her
everyday activity. We all worried so much about her, but she worried more about us.
While many in her position may have become weaker, I saw her become and grow
stronger. She never stopped believing she could over come this killer they called cancer.
She lived on because this family was her life and we were still here. We gave her
strength, but she gave us more.
She taught me about the value of knowledge. Growing up she would say to me in a
firm but subtle voice, "You have to learn, because in this world knowledge is power!" I
have had a lot of days when w...