Decades ago, my mom used to make Christmas fruitcakes. When my brothers and I lived in the house, it was a single cake. After we established our own homes, she made four — one for Dad and herself and one for each of her sons. With her passing a decade ago, I had long forgotten about her gift routine until I was reminded by my brother, who produced the last remaining slide of the last fruitcake mom ever made. It has long passed the eating stage. It is hard to the point of being petrified. As I unwrapped the fruitcake, I could hear Mom’s laughter and feel her joy in making and sharing it with others. With this slice, I can feel her alive this season, smiling, talking, and laughing as we enjoy preparing for Christmas.
Never underestimate the love of a parent for a child. Each time I witness or experience this love, I am struck by the strength and resolve that comes with it. I know the child involved (thinking of myself) does not always deserve it! The strength of this bond transcends generations and time, as an old story reminds me; “By an act of faith, Moses’ parents hid him away for three months after his birth. They saw the child’s beauty, and they braved the king’s decree.” (Hebrews 11.23). This bond is not to be trifled with. It is an opportunity to see and experience the feeling that Divinity has for her children, including me.
Individuals live as they are remembered. There are times when I wish my mom would be quiet. In truth, I know she will always be with me, cheering, cajoling, and sometimes shaking her head. I also know she will always be in my corner, cheering for me and hoping that my dreams come true. When I close my eyes, I see others continuing to live, support, and encourage me. As much as I miss each one, I am thankful for their prayers, words, and continued support. I know I am stronger because they continue to live within me.
