Kindra's Blog

A Time to Mourn, and a Time to Dance

When you say "au revoir" in French, it literally translates to "till seeing again".

On June 21st, 2016, we bid our beloved mother au revoir. Dad lost his wife and friend of over thirty years, and the world lost one incredible lady.

Mom's earthly body drew its last breath, as her heavenly being took true flight for the first time. She was soaring. Free from cancer. Free from pain. Free of time, and all the troubles that we face in its entrapment here on earth.

And frankly, as I stood beside her bed that afternoon and saw what remained of the mother that had raised me, loved me, and faithfully been there for me for twenty-five years...I envied her. I'm a coward - I wished that I could have gone first. I didn't want to face life without her; couldn't imagine how we were going to find a new normal.

I wept. For me. For Dad. I wept for my brother Glen, who lost the mother who adored and spoiled him. For my little sisters, who's futures have radically shifted. For the grandchildren that are yet to be born, who will never know their grandma. For my family, as we lost a pillar and beacon, holding us up, and pointing us ever closer to Christ. We wept, and we grieved deeply.

Yet for Mom, I never shed a tear. My heart aches for us - for Mom, it rejoices. God answered our prayers for her to be rid of the cancer that ravaged her body by calling her home.

No more chemo. No radiation. No nasty needle sticks, or being sick. She's through with doctors and prescriptions. Her restless nights are over.

Mom is finally cancer-free.

She is enjoying the greatest freedom that the world can ever know.

And I have faith that not only will I get to see her again; we will spend eternity together, singing hallelujah to the Lamb.

Mom,

A mere "Thank you" cannot begin to do justice to the gratitude that I feel for the role that you have had in my life. World's Greatest Mom is a title that could easily have been yours, yet it wouldn't be good enough for you. You were a mother, yet you were so much more.

I wish you could have heard some of the words that we heard echoed over and over again at the viewing and funeral. About how kind you were. How generous. How many lives you touched in the short time that we were so incredibly blessed to have you here with us.

Today makes two weeks since that heart-wrenching day that marked the beginning of this new chapter in our lives. Fourteen long days in which I never fail to look for you, or have to stop myself from asking where you are at some point in the day.

Words aren't enough, but since they are all that I have left to give you, here goes-

Thank you.

For loving me and raising me. For punishing me, for spanking me, and for crying with me. For laughing with, and even for laughing at me (no, I'm not going to forget you laughing while I panicked about a needle - you laughed then, and you laughed every time that I reminded you about it). You taught me about cooking and cleaning, birds and gardening, friendships and boys. You showed me Jesus. Demonstrated how to walk in His steps.

You helped me make a decision that gave us a promise that no matter what happened here on earth, we could always hold on to the hope of eternal life.

And for that, and so many other things, I am forever indebted to you.

I miss you, Mom.