EVEN THE SNOW CRIED
1979 in Roswell, Georgia broke with a sense of relief; soon we could leave the 70's far behind us. The 80's looked promising and brought an expectation of health, wealth and a euphoric New Year's Eve.
But life has a funny way of changing things quickly and this year was no different.
I celebrated my 31st birthday with that warm-fuzzy feeling in the first month of 1979. So far, so good. But a nagging fear lingered in the back of my mind as when I had called home to Nova Scotia at Christmas, I discovered that Mum was not able to keep any food down. She was just 72 years old.
The call came on my birthday from my oldest brother that our mother had been diagnosed with terminal cancer of the stomach. The verdict was worse; three to six months left to live.
Never again would our Mum play her beloved Church organ, lead the choirs in song and praise, write poems, bake bread, play cards, etc.
I spoke with her on the telephone to assure her I was coming home as soon as possible and she seemed happy about that. I had many things to do in preparation for the journey as I wanted to stay until the end.
My thirteen year old daughter bid her many school friends good-bye as I left my job as an Insurance Adjuster; our furniture stored away, our dog left with friends. Delta was ready when we were.
I remember the flight like it was yesterday. We landed in Yarmouth and my oldest brother picked us up. The land was frozen and brown, not a snow flake in sight. I had not seen snow in years and was disappointed but had more serious things on my mind.
She lay in a bed downstairs in the living room and it still hurts too much to write about it. All I can share with you is that I left her side with-in 15 minutes to go upstairs, drop to my knees and pray to God. I asked Him to take her from us now; it was late on March 2nd. that I sat beside her bed, watching her sleeping, holding her cold hand.
She died early Sunday morning, March 4th. at 4 am in the Shelburne Hospital with four of her children present. It broke our hearts to lose her but I thanked God above for answering my prayer.
As we walked out of the hospital carrying just her clothes and her Bible, I noticed it had just started snowing. And it snowed the twenty minutes it took to reach our house, big, soft snow flakes falling down from a dark, sad sky. Frozen rain, drops of grief.......
Hearing the news given to my father from upstairs (by my brother), broke our hearts again. Soon, at daybreak, I called our Minister who arrived shortly, then he broke the news to the congregation. "Lena Gertrude Watson Mundell" had died. And they cried....
Even the snow cried.......
Soon it will be March 4th again and though 29 winters have passed, I still watch for snow on that date. They say no two snow-flakes are alike. In comparison, no-one is like my mother. She was like the snow-flake's.......one of a kind.
As I walk to their graves in the Barrington cemetery, snow covers them like a blanket. My parents are resting there where I'll join them at some unknown future date. I see the prints from deer and animals and know they have had some company of late.
As I leave sometimes, it is snowing; and I smile as I walk away. God is good!
1979 in Roswell, Georgia broke with a sense of relief; soon we could leave the 70's far behind us. The 80's looked promising and brought an expectation of health, wealth and a euphoric New Year's Eve.
But life has a funny way of changing things quickly and this year was no different.
I celebrated my 31st birthday with that warm-fuzzy feeling in the first month of 1979. So far, so good. But a nagging fear lingered in the back of my mind as when I had called home to Nova Scotia at Christmas, I discovered that Mum was not able to keep any food down. She was just 72 years old.
The call came on my birthday from my oldest brother that our mother had been diagnosed with terminal cancer of the stomach. The verdict was worse; three to six months left to live.
Never again would our Mum play her beloved Church organ, lead the choirs in song and praise, write poems, bake bread, play cards, etc.
I spoke with her on the telephone to assure her I was coming home as soon as possible and she seemed happy about that. I had many things to do in preparation for the journey as I wanted to stay until the end.
My thirteen year old daughter bid her many school friends good-bye as I left my job as an Insurance Adjuster; our furniture stored away, our dog left with friends. Delta was ready when we were.
I remember the flight like it was yesterday. We landed in Yarmouth and my oldest brother picked us up. The land was frozen and brown, not a snow flake in sight. I had not seen snow in years and was disappointed but had more serious things on my mind.
She lay in a bed downstairs in the living room and it still hurts too much to write about it. All I can share with you is that I left her side with-in 15 minutes to go upstairs, drop to my knees and pray to God. I asked Him to take her from us now; it was late on March 2nd. that I sat beside her bed, watching her sleeping, holding her cold hand.
She died early Sunday morning, March 4th. at 4 am in the Shelburne Hospital with four of her children present. It broke our hearts to lose her but I thanked God above for answering my prayer.
As we walked out of the hospital carrying just her clothes and her Bible, I noticed it had just started snowing. And it snowed the twenty minutes it took to reach our house, big, soft snow flakes falling down from a dark, sad sky. Frozen rain, drops of grief.......
Hearing the news given to my father from upstairs (by my brother), broke our hearts again. Soon, at daybreak, I called our Minister who arrived shortly, then he broke the news to the congregation. "Lena Gertrude Watson Mundell" had died. And they cried....
Even the snow cried.......
Soon it will be March 4th again and though 29 winters have passed, I still watch for snow on that date. They say no two snow-flakes are alike. In comparison, no-one is like my mother. She was like the snow-flake's.......one of a kind.
As I walk to their graves in the Barrington cemetery, snow covers them like a blanket. My parents are resting there where I'll join them at some unknown future date. I see the prints from deer and animals and know they have had some company of late.
As I leave sometimes, it is snowing; and I smile as I walk away. God is good!
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