In spite of not seeing my own children, it’s been a terrific Mother’s Day. Many of us have entered seasons where our children are grown and far away. Technology helps bridge this gap with face time, phone calls, facebook, emails. It helps us to keep in touch! But nothing replaces human contact. Seeing the ones you love in person!
Today I was welcomed into the home of a new friend whom I’ve grown very close to. Her whole family embraced me. Her husband, his parents, her parents, and their three children. We had delicious steaks, baked potatoes, salad and dessert. They surprised me with presents, and I enjoyed seeing them all in genuine form. Laughing, teasing one another, the little one deciding it was too hot to have clothes on, just all letting their hair down and being real! Telling their family stories. I was truly blessed to be a part of the party.
Then the real surprise came. I learned my friend’s mother attended the church my grandmother attended. For years. All her life essentially. I asked her if she knew my grandmother. Avon Cox. She excitedly said, “Yes! I do!”
Then she continued, “And I have an amazing story to share about your family!”
Anita remembered being at the hospital visiting her pastor from the church. The same church my grandmother attended. This was sometime in the late 1990’s. On that particular day my grandmother, 88 years old was also at that hospital. She didn’t have much time left.
She told me as she was in her pastor’s hospital room chatting with people from her church, a young woman came into the room. Her face was full of grief and asked for ‘Anita’, and told them she’d been told she could sing. She explained that her grandmother was sick, and wondered if she knew her grandmother’s favorite song, “He Lives”. She asked if she would come and sing it over her grandmother.
As Anita shared the story with me she told me several people were in the room. She had followed the young woman and sang over her friend Avon. She knew her. She told me she felt so blessed to have had the opportunity to do that.
I’d taken a flight to be with my family that weekend. I knew my grandmother had a very short time left. And as she told me the story, I remembered every detail. I remembered how beautifully she sang as she belted out the verses acapella. Then it was my turn to share.
“Anita.” I smiled at her. “That young woman was me. It was me.”
