Mother of Mine

I have REGROUPED! I am up and around and feeling rather well. Earlier, I read a post by one of my daughters remembering my Mother, who died at 5:05 pm twenty-one (21) years ago. Seeing her picture this morning opened up a floodgate of memories, feelings, and attitudes.

The love of my life has gone from this side forever. My heart was wrapped up in a coffin and placed six feet down in the ground with a vessel that told me that she was not there but to make sure her vessel was well taken care of because it had taken such good care of her over the years.

I can hear her words so clearly, so I know that she is not buried in Screven Georgia's "Colored People" Cemetery, where she requested to have her vessel placed, but it is where I think of her being these days. After twenty-one years, I actually dreamed of her almost a week ago for the very first time. I was shocked! Of all the people in the world, I did not expect her to come back to visit me in any shape, form, or fashion, knowing my fear of death before her passing.

It was a pleasant dream. A confirmation that things in my life and my children's lives would be changing for the positive over the next few months. Her words in my dream had been just as clear as the words she spoke before her death regarding the care of her "vessel" that she would be leaving. A very wise woman (my daughter calls me that now, sometimes, and I smile) said that time has a way of healing us all, but even though we are healed, there will be moments and times that will remind us of the pain we suffered.

This morning, I claim healing after the death of my Mother, but my daughter's post reminded me of the pain I suffered the day that she died and the years after her passing. I am healed, but I miss her smile, the twinkle that she always had in her eye when she thought that she was being mischievous, watching her jump on a bike at sixty-five and try to race the grands, and more than anything else, hearing her pray so reverently early in the morning when she thought we were all fast asleep.

Some of her words are as true today as they were when she walked and lived with us. Prayer availeth much. Start your day with prayer. End your day in prayer. Give thanks for the little bit you have, and God will bless you with much. Share what you have with those who are less fortunate. Waste not, want not. Always be thankful for what God has done for you. Don't worry about what others may have. What they have was meant for them. Do not start a fight, but always be prepared to finish it. Walk tall. Be honest. Live respectfully. Love one another. Pick your battle carefully, but once picked, be prepared to die for what you believe in. Sometimes, running away from a battle is perfectly okay because he who runs today may live to fight another day!

My Mother introduced me to reading, to the opera, to ballet, to poetry, to public speaking, to the piano, and much much more. She introduced me to life. A country bumpkin with a queen's taste for life. She tried her darndest to make me into a "lady," but learned early on that I was a born "tomboy," outspoken, determined, and quite a handful, but she worked on me every single day. As I sit here writing this twenty-one years after her demise, I wonder what she would think of her prodigy. I am very sure that one of her first comments would have to do with my weight. She was very particular and watchful of her weight and felt that it was essential to retain a "healthy" weight within certain limits. I am certain that she would hold her head up high when she looked around and saw all her grands, great grands, and great-great grands, for at long last, she would have enough people to fill up her long table with all the chairs alongside of it.

She would probably "not" fit too well in today's world because there was NOTHING politically correct about her. She was a plain and simple woman, filled with the Holy Ghost, Baptized in the name of Jesus, and was truly one of His disciples here on earth. She was a true woman of God who loved her family, her friends, and her enemies in the manner that I believe God would have wanted all of us to do. She was not held back by color, race, creed, or religion. She had no problem crossing all borders, and when she crossed those borders, she always did it with love, kindness, and truth wrapped up in that Florence Henrietta Brown Williams spirit.

She touched the lives of many while she was here, and even more since she has been gone through those whom she left behind.

Loving you and missing you, Miss Florence! (Yep, I called you Miss Florence, just like many of your followers!) Okay, Mother. Rest in the love of Jesus until He beckons to you to rise again!