Today would have been my mama’s 95th birthday, something she would have no doubt hated if she were alive today (it’s hard to grow old for one so young at heart). My mother was an exquisite role-model of motherhood. She loved me, spent time with me, loved me enough to instill what it meant to be a Maney, and disciplined me when I did not live up to that standard. I hated it at the time, but am grateful for it today. She allowed me to have a childhood that was second to none because she insisted that I be a kid and worked sacrificially to make that happen. In that regard, I miss her presence. But I cannot be sad because I would rather her be where she is than to be here with me and struggling with illness and infirmity (check out this reflection on grief and consolation over parents who have died).
Thank you mama, for being the mother you were. Thank you for all your sacrifice for me and for our family. Thank you for allowing me to grow up in a timely manner and not before it was my time to do so. Thank you for personifying sacrificial love for me. And thank you, dear God, for blessing me with the best parents a person could ever want or dream of having.
Happy birthday, mama. I love you. Enjoy your rest with the Lord who loves you and has claimed you from all eternity.
Rest eternal grant unto Margaret, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her. May her soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace and rise in glory. Amen.
And for those of you whose mother is still living, make sure you remember your mama on Mothers’ Day next Sunday. Better yet, treat her like every day is Mothers’ Day. I know my mama would surely approve.