Yellow Tulips

 

Beautiful, perfect yellow tulips. How incredibly cheerful they are. They remind me of my 95-year-old mother, as they are her favorite flowers. Mom would love to have a bouquet of these on her table at home. I should send some yellow tulips.

My mother, the lovely woman she was, gave it all when it came to life. But, as life does, she hit a wall when she had another stroke. The stroke took this incredibly strong, independent woman down. She was unresponsive in the hospital on Saturday night (August 8), with my baby brother Mark by her side. 

A large portion of my family lives in Tennessee, leaving my older brother Mike and I in Oregon where we all grew up and used to live as one large eight-member family, well nine-member actually, including my beautiful stepsister, Gloria. But alas, Mike grew up and headed into the service. I moved to Portland out of Eugene where I started my family. Eventually, I returned home after things did not work out in that relationship, to put it mildly. But like usual, Mom was there, waiting, with open, loving arms. 

Marjorie Lucille Perry is her name. She carried so much love and kindness in her heart toward any living being she came across. Mom hated to judge people and extended her love and light to everyone she met, including those she was not real fond of. But those who lingered in Mom's not-so-popular list never knew this woman did not love them as though they were family. At the age of 68 years old, I realize I definitely want to be like Mom when I grow up. It took me a while, but I can be taught!

My beautiful mother was involved in her faith and loved her church. She actually helped build a church when we first moved from Tennessee to Eugene, Oregon. We began the early years in an old house that later became a home my daughter and I moved into. I thought it felt familiar, then later found out the house had been moved from its original setting into the spot I found it in. 

Mom was a beloved member of Riviera Baptist Church in Eugene for many years. She cleaned it each Saturday, after cleaning our three-story home, then returned on Sunday to worship. This lovely woman taught us not to be a Southern Baptist without other choices, but to have a spiritual outlook on life. I carried that into my adulthood, as did my siblings. 

Now it's time to say goodbye to Marjorie Perry, as we did my dad many years ago. Now, they can be together in eternity.

 My heart is torn apart today as I received the news this beautiful, amazing, loving soul crossed over. My daughters, Marina and Dawn had a chance to visit mom this year, but I, however, did not. So, without saying goodbye the traditional, personal way, I did so after her passing, looking between the many tears pouring down my face and my heart aching so badly I thought it would burst. If I had not known who this person was being interned today, I would have thought the ceremony was heartfelt and amazing. But instead, this was my mother, my beautiful, kind, soft, Iowan farm girl of a mother whom I loved so deeply. The outlook on the ceremony was not quite so lovely, but one of pain, grief, and a deep, sorrowful loss. 

I walked into the funeral home, spotting family out of the filled rooms I passed through. Mom always knew how to draw a crowd. With two of my loving daughters and one of their husbands, along with my granddaughter by my other daughter, we walked aimlessly through the people in each room, locating my Aunt Shirley from Eugene, and my heroic brother, Mark. I look at Mark as a hero now, in so many ways. 

Mark took care of our mom as she grew older. Each time Mom fell, he was there, in the hospital and at home. He moved her into his house and took over as the wonderful son he is. Mark helped Mom to get to church until she could not travel any longer. He remained a steady confidante and loving son throughout the time Mom needed him, and for that, I will be forever grateful. 

Mark also took control over watching over our sister, Gail, who is down syndrome. I hate to say that, as that is not what defines Gail. An angelic presence is what Gail was. She completed our family upon her birth, and as she grew, none of us could imagine life without our baby sister. Mark is still working on Gail's home to ensure it is kept to the highest standards for her to be happy. 

I entered the room where Mom lay in one of the most gorgeous caskets I have ever seen. Not that I am into judging caskets by any means, but this casket was deserving of my mother's sweet grace. 

All of this trip to Tennessee, having to say a final goodbye to my mom, and the entire process was so surreal. I am home now and still saying my goodbyes, wishing Mom a beautiful, joyful journey, and wishing I had been there before she passed. The guilt, the wishing for happiness for the loved one passing, and looking back what should've, could've, would've happened if this and that is all a normal grieving process. 

I know I will soon pull out of it, with the help of my family, and Spirit. Terry has been so supportive, along with all of the girls, so that I will endure a normal grieving process. However, I would not wish this time on anyone, and yet, I know we all eventually go through it. Whether the loss of a pet or loss of a human in our lives, it's all the same. It hurts. It hurts your heart, your body aches, and your soul is crushed. That bare space will never be filled again but life does move on. There is so much more love to give, to share with those who may not be as fortunate as us who have loved ones to miss. 

Shine your light bright, friends. Never forget that you can create a loving, glowing relationship with others if you shine brightly and let them in. Just a simple smile or hello can cheer someone who may be going through a tough time. Make your love and light your legacy that you leave for future generations to follow. In all the world of things and people to be, I want to be like Marjorie Lucille Perry. I want to share my light to those I may not genuinely care for; I want to accept others for who they are, without judgement and without negative thought. 

Mom, you have left more behind than your children, 11 grandchildren, and five awesome great grandchildren. You are still shining brightly here on earth, even after you move on, and that's quite the accomplishment. Everyone at your funeral stated how loving and sweet you were. You're a big loss and we will dearly miss you, but you have a journey to complete elsewhere now. I just hope you stop by to check in once in a while. I could use your touch, your love, and always your hope that life is a beautiful experience. 

I will love you always and forever, Mom.