My rear view mirror.


The thing about organized religion, and religious people, they mean well, they just don’t always have all the facts.

As Paul Harvey used to say….”now for the rest of the story.”

The funeral today for my mother was filled with the “dereguerre” of songs, scripture, tears, and well wishes.

I should have known that there was a final “shoe” left to drop. It dropped at the graveside.

My mother left this world with her dissatisfaction, criticism, and complaints of me on her lips. Not just to her friends, but to her pastor in her directions to him regarding her funeral.

I had rationalized as a cancer patient tends to lash out at those they care for at the end. My mothers issues have always been consistent for the last 35 years. I should have known better than to join the rationalization party.

The final good bye at the gravesite, and the preacher decides to “interfere” (yes, that was his word) and preach at me on why my mother didn’t want me around her. He was full of rhetoric of my mother’s loving spirit, generosity, tenacity, and joy. He was tearful as he talked about how she cared so much for her caregivers and concern over their ability to work after she passed. What would they do when she was gone?

He never said a word about how much she loved her family. He never said a word about her grandchildren, siblings, nieces, nephews, or children.

The funeral director Roy asked me if we would like to stay while the grave was lowered into the ground. I said “yes”. My brother was not comfortable, but agreed to stay with me till the end. All of the family ended up staying, they weren’t happy with watching the coffin lowering into the ground.

Just the family was at the graveside service. 1 uncle, 2 cousins, 2 sons, 1 brother, my husband, other spouses for some. A small gathering of those who saw it through till the end.

As the technicians began the process of lowering the casket, I alone stood up.

The last tribute to my mother. I took my stand in respect. I let the preacher hug me before he left. I raised my hand to the sky and waived.

I know you are not in the ground.

I know what you instructed the preacher to do. He warned me that he would say what you instructed, I forgive you. The fact that I have remained in your life, and stood by your grave is a living testimony of the power of forgiveness and the love of Christ in my life.

It is amazing what most people miss….even if it is right in front of them.

Today I am grateful for the people who know me, get me, love me, correct me, and hang in there as I come off this long roller coaster ride.

10 thoughts on “My rear view mirror.

  1. Reblogged this on Ramblings and Musings and commented:

    I had a dream about my mother, so I went back in time and found the post that I wrote after her death.

    I’ve learned the most of what I don’t what to be from my parents. If you have good parents, love them up, and never let them go.

    • Thanks ma’am. I don’t like to be a downer, but I do hope I can, by example, let someone know they have a great parent, or that they are one.
      Sometimes I get dragged back into the emotion of the time, and I have to remind myself of how far I’ve come too.
      I really appreciate that you have taken the time to read and comment. It means a lot to me.


      • The deeper than sorrow or pain carve into our souls, the more room there is for joy to fill it up. Going forward, I hope your life will be filled with more joy than sorrow or pain. I hope you will keep writing. You have talent and a story that can not be contained. Time is on your side. I believe that over time these difficult memories will recede. Lori

  2. No one has more power to hurt us than our family. And the person who holds the greatest power to hurt in any family is the mother.

    I think quite seriously that forgiving is a release for the forgiver and not the forgiven. And only the strongest of us can do it.

    Having said that, I’m not sure I could do it. I’m currently struggling with forgiving and its not so easy. Its a long, perhaps never ending, process.

    • I find myself getting dragged backwards into the emotions of it. But feeling forgiveness and forgiving are two different things. Some days my feelings match up with my decisions, and sometimes it’s tough. I just hope that by sharing the struggle, I can give someone encouragement. That way I can use the hurt like exercise equipment and make myself a little stronger and a little better able to face the next challenge.

      • You are so right. It is a decision. And I’m glad you reminded me – sometimes my emotions aren’t going to sync up with the decision.
        I letting myself feel like I failed at the forgiveness because some days the pain and anger are big. Thank you.

  3. This was such a moving piece. I am so sorry you went through this, and I am so glad that you have learned and continue to learn a lot from this.

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