It’s Time to Grow Up Now…My Bittersweet Reality
My mom, Kathryn, and dad, Al Coyner, on their 50th wedding anniversary. Dad died five months prior to their 60th.
When I was in my early 20’s, I worked with an older lady named Ellen. One day during coffee break conversation, Ellen said, “I never felt grown up until my mother died.” The memory of those words stuck.
Ellen’s words have come full circle. My mom died Friday morning, September 4, 2020, at Deaconess Hospital in Spokane, Washington.
It’s time for me to grow up now!
My younger sister and I were with Mom when she drew her final breath. It was bittersweet. The sadness sucked emotions right out of me! I can still hear the thunderous yet soft sounds of Mom’s final shallow breaths.
As I write this post, my emotions feel grounded. The profound gratitude I felt even when Mom transitioned keeps intensifying.
Let me tell you a bit about my mother.
These past several months, she’s been telling us she could feel her body wearing out. A few days before she passed, I sat chatting with her, and she said, “Susie, you know, I’m 94-and-a-half years old now.” I chuckled. Often, I’ve heard a child announce, “I’m [some number, usually under 10] and one-half-years old.” Guess before the age of ten and after the age of 90, those half-years matter more.
We all anticipated Mom wouldn’t be with us a whole lot longer, and yet the sudden turn of events resulting in her demise was an unexpected shock. More than once since, I’ve mused, “There’s never a convenient time to die.”
Mom was born just prior to the Great Depression. Born to older parents, Olivia Kathryn was the youngest of six children. Depression days were difficult days, and my mom carried some early memories of lack and loneliness all through her life.
At the age of 13, she had a powerful spiritual experience, which shaped her lifetime of deep faith.
My mother’s greatest desire was to be a wife and mother. Her final words to me late Thursday afternoon, a couple hours before she experienced cardiac arrest, were, “Thank you for taking time to call me. Hearing my kids’ voices is always the highlight of my day.” I’m so grateful an inner prompting told me I must call despite my fatigue after a hectic day,
Like many of us, Mom was prone to feeling insecure. I recall a conversation several years earlier. She had helped serve luncheon at church following a memorial service. I could tell something about the service was bothering her, and I encouraged her to tell me more. Mom described all the accomplishments of the deceased that had been discussed at the service. Then she commented wistfully, “I guess all that will be said at my service some day is that I was just an ordinary wife and mother.”
Many know I’m a ‘word nerd.’ Words worm their way into my soul, and these Mom spoke did just that. I’m not a poet, but a few days following our conversation, I wrote a little poem.
‘An Ordinary Mom’
I’m just an ordinary mom
With kids at home I stayed.
If Mom were asked about her life
That’s probably what she’d say.
No trophies, grand accomplishments,
Awards upon her wall
Yet, when reflecting on her life
This woman stands so tall.
For to her family she’s a jewel
Her children know they’re treasured.
She’s been a light to guide our paths
Such worth cannot be measured.
So often we have found new strength
Through our mom’s faithful prayers.
Her gentle words and helping hands
Tell us how much she cares.
So, for this ordinary mom:
Please bless her days we pray,
Guard her life, and guide each step
In extraordinary ways.
Oftentimes, what seems ‘ordinary’ is in fact most ‘extraordinary.’
Like I said earlier, my mother’s faith was intense. Whenever I discussed a problem or conflict, she’d always say, “Susie, just trust Jesus!” I would usually retort, “Mom, sure trusting Jesus is important, but it’s not always that simple.”
Mom’s faith was straightforward. She was never all that impressed when I discussed the latest brain research, tried to explain the complexity of family of origin issues, or even clarify a biblical issue by considering the original Hebrew or Greek language.
Shortly before Mom took her final breath, I stepped close to her hospital bed. Although not very melodious, over my mom I sang the words to a children’s song that embodies essential theological truth. Mom sang it to her children and grandchildren. I altered the words slightly as I sang them to her:
Jesus loves you, this I know
For the Bible tells us so.
Little ones to him belong,
You are weak, but he is strong.
Yes, Jesus loves you,
Yes, Jesus loves you,
Yes, Jesus loves you,
The Bible tells us so.
My parting words were, “Thank you, Mom, for teaching me to love Jesus.”
If my reflections remind you of sweet mama memories, cherish them.
If they create painful recollections, I pray you’ll find comfort.
If your mother needs forgiveness, please forgive her, even if she’s no longer living.
If your mother is lonely, give her a call or visit.
If you are a mother, learn to love your kiddos wisely and well. And, do cherish the journey!
Sorry this post is so lengthy. Guess 94 years requires quite a few words! Thanks for reading and allowing me to share my grief journey…
Sue Reeve
P.S. I will resume the series of Bethany’s story next Monday. Although I didn’t realize it when I read it to her, this week’s Thursday’s post was the final Listening on the Journey… post I will ever read to Mom.
