Mary Ellen: The wind on my face

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One of the few family photos with the four of us. Taken in 1987.

(Part 3 of a three-part series. Today’s post is about double the usual 200 words, but given the personal nature of the series, I’m sure you’ll understand.)

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Mom with her first grandchild, Malissa.

Today’s my mom’s birthday. Had breast cancer not claimed her life in 1990, she’d be 79 years old today. One of her greatest desires was to be a grandmother, a blessing that happened only once before her mortal journey came to an end. Today, Mom is grandmother to eight and great-grandmother to one. I suspect she’s doted over each of them, though her mortal path only crossed with one of them.

Mom has blessed my life in ways that I can’t even begin to list. Of all that she gave to me in this life—besides life itself—I treasure most her firm and unwavering love that continues with me today. I look forward to seeing her again and feeling the embrace she shared often and that I’ve missed sorely since our Heavenly Father called her home.

Just prior to her passing, Mom told me that whenever I feel the wind on my face, she’ll be thinking of me and that the wind would caress my face like she wished she could do herself. The wind seems to kick up a little stronger on her birthday, and I cherish those moments as I reflect on her words and feel of her loving presence.

I can’t possibly squeeze into a one-minute blog post all of the tender feelings I have for my mother. Two hundred pages wouldn’t be enough for me to convey my love and appreciation for all that she gave me during the first 23 years of my life.

I find it fitting that my first book is being published 25 years after Mom’s passing. Twenty-five years is a notable milestone, so to me, it’s a good way and time to honor her life. She was always supportive of everything I did, so it’s not surprising that I’ve felt her loving approval throughout this entire book-writing and publishing experience.

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Mom and me at my high school graduation.

A three-part blog tribute only scratches the surface of the memories and feelings I have for my mom. In addition to honoring my precious mother, I undertook this labor of love with the desire to help you, the reader, remember a loved one that you’ve lost. Perhaps something I’ve said about my mom will resonate with you and will give words to the feelings that you have tucked away in your heart.

May we ever treasure the good that our family members—living and passed—give to our lives, and may it ever be our desire to be a blessing to our loved ones, and to our fellow man.

Part 1 Mary Ellen: Pretty in pink

Part 2 Mary Ellen: A honk and a wave

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