Because of Mom #Mother's Day Tribute

Mom (in red) Christmas 1990, age 94

   Because of Mom                                                       

 I hope to someday become the person my mother (Pearl Towne Reece) thought I already was. Strong, principled, funny; a life lived in the assurance that God loves and cares for His own. In short, like her. When Mom passed on at almost 96, my brother said, "No one can live forever,  but she almost did!" Mom went from the horse and buggy era to the space age. Yet as a minister at her memorial service said, "Pearl talked about the past, but she didn’t live in it." 

  She and Dad role-modeled important survival skills.

•  Face life courageously. No matter what the circumstances, God is still in control. 
• Don't whine or ask "Why me?" when life brings thorns instead of roses.
• Follow Paul's advice to the Philippines (3:13)  “ . . .  forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before . . .”  In other words, “Get off the past and on to the future by asking, ‘All right, Lord, where do we go from here?’”

 This advice has served me well for over eighty years, especially when diagnosed with breast cancer in 2012 after decades of wonderful health. At the first consultation with my surgeon, oncologist, and radiation oncologist, Dr. K. looked at my on-screen test results and shook his head. "This is not going to be a walk in the park."
 
The teachings instilled in me, and the irrepressible sense of humor Mom  and Dad also handed down, made me stick both thumbs in the air and say, "I am a woman of faith, a logger's daughter, and I am a survivor!"  Startled silence, then laughter exploded. I sensed relief at my underlying promise that working together with God, we would beat the cancer. We have.

 Mom's life wasn't always  easy. A cougar followed her and her siblings through the woods on Thanksgiving Day.  They prayed and sang hymns to scare him away. She and Dad lost most of their wedding gifts and could have lost their lives while crossing a river on a one-car, cable-operated ferry. The car plunged into the river. Dad yanked off the side curtains and hauled Mom out and onto the top. Fortunately, the river was at its lowest level. They were able to stand on the roof—although Mom giggled so hard when she saw hats floating downstream that Dad could  barely keep her upright until the Indian ferry operator rescued them with his canoe.

My sister-in-law once commented, “Not many persons live twenty-four happy years after the death of a spouse." Mom did. Always cheerful, she retained her faith, bounced back from adversity, and instilled in me the desire to do the same, plus the faith to believe it is possible. Mom also left a legacy of laughter. Once when I visited her in the hospital where they had kept her overnight, she grinned and said, "What a place to spend my ninetieth birthday.” Her doctor had wanted her closely monitored so he'd moved her closer to the nurse's station in Obstetrics.

When I began freelance writing, Mom became my greatest helper and cheerleader. She proofed my work, using skills acquired from years of teaching—some in a one-room schoolhouse. Her belief that God had called me to write for Him kept me submitting manuscripts long after I would have given up. She lived to see me become a self-supporting author, always reminding me that we can do "all things through Christ who strengthens us."   

Mom's deeply ingrained perseverance and refusal to quit lives on in my life. I went through chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation with far less side effects than expected. My doctors and nurses call me their miracle patient. When they say, “You are awesome,” I smile and shake my head. “No. God is awesome. I am grateful.” They agree.

Because of Mom, I face life's challenges by asking, "All right, Lord, where do we go from here?" Then I smile and step forward, knowing He both walks with me and goes before me.