Love You, Mom

Recently, I found something that belonged to my mama. It was something I thought had been lost even before her death 20 months ago.  It was something very special to her, and because of that – especially because of that – it’s special to me.

This lead me to my Mama’s Box Of Stuff so I could place the item  where it belonged. When I opened the box to put the found item in, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. It was a bright yellow Dollar General bag.  How did I miss this little bag about a year and a half ago when I was sorting mama’s things, ever so carefully and in great detail, searching for and extracting memories from each picture, doodled on scrap of paper, address book and to-do list I could find?  I opened the small bag to find a signed, un-delivered birthday card…..from mama to me.  From my mama, to me!

I guess I don’t have to tell you there was a dramatic pause. Time.Stood.Still as I read every word in the card and felt the separation between the here and there caressed ever so tenderly.

LOVE doesn’t die. LOVE lasts. LOVE transcends. LOVE lives. On. and On. and On.

Mama didn’t know when she bought and signed that card when exactly it would be delivered to me…but God’s timing is always perfect, and better than anything we could ever orchestrate.  As I celebrate birthday 48, I am most thankful for the gift of eternal life…Hope in Jesus Christ….and know that a Heavenly celebration is yet to come!


And thank you, Lord, for the gift of my mama’s love.

2 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Julie on March 29, 2017 at 3:14 pm

    Girl, I have tears in my eyes, well ugly crying really. What a blessed treasure to receive that card. Last year when I was packing I found so many cards from years past that had my Dad’s hand writing. Today has been 9 years that he has been gone. I know you miss her very much. Julie D.


    • You understand completely the beats my heart skipped when I opened that little yellow bag. What a gift! Things that before didn’t even seem to be tangible totally are now. I trace the pencil signature on that card with my finger and am awash with awe and marvel at the Creator’s hand and how He allowed me to have that birthday moment. I can do nothing but smile through those tears. No sadness, but a definite absence made less somehow. Those cards and things are precious, tangible memories, aren’t they?


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