My mother's name is Rose. It is the perfect name for her. She was beautiful and precious, delicate and fragile. Her identity strong, her protection apparent.
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| "Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose." Sacred Emily, Gertrude Stein |
She brought comforting smiles to everyone's faces. My mother gave of herself in many ways, to her church, her entire family and her dear friends. Rose was adored and cherished, living life as only she knew how.
Today she is gone from our lives, she is free to be her spirit's natural, carefree self. Her life was meaningful to those she touched and to all the people she gave her love to. We are the fortunate ones, the ones who mourn her lost. The void we feel inside, is the love she gave to us, no longer reinforced each and every day.
Beautiful Rose, please do not forgot that we will live with your memory in our hearts. Your love penetrating our souls. If our paths cross again, will you remember the life we spent together? When we reunite, will the moment be as beautiful as our Rose?
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| Dearest Rose |
My after thoughts:
Did my mom know how much she was loved?
Did she understand how we all prayed for her happiness and health?
Does she know how much we miss her?
My mother is gone from my life, but she lives on in my mind, my memories filtered, leaving only goodness and happy times. Words will never describe the impact she made on my entire life. How she gave me everything in the world. My mother inspired me to be a better person. It is all I can do, to graciously reciprocate her love.
It is interesting how losing a loved one encourages our hearts to surge with an abundance of love and care which we would normally not feel on an otherwise ordinary day.
