“You had my mother give birth to me. You made me trust you while I was just a baby. I have leaned on you since the day I was born; you have been my God since my mother gave me birth.”(Ps. 22:9-10, NCV)
My aunt, my mother’s sister, sent me an old picture. In the picture was my mother holding a baby and standing next to her sister. I asked my aunt if it was me that my mother was holding, but my aunt wasn’t sure. I’d like to believe it was me because the baby is holding on to my mom, grasping her shirt, but the baby is looking the other way. I want it to be me….
Of course, that picture brought back memories, some emotions, and yes, questions. Oh, how I wish my mother was still alive. I wish I could talk to her, get motherly advice, and have long conversations on the phone. I wish we could meet for lunch and dinner; and take frequent trips to see her. I would watch my mother as she’d spend time with my children, her grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.
My mother died when I was four. Therefore, I only remember a small glimpse of her and the things she did. I know she was very charming and a joy to be around. She was so beautiful! She had dark mocha skin, a gorgeous figure, and an infectious smile that was like a breath of fresh air. Her smile lit up the room and made a lasting impression on