Looking forward to Spring

February is a kind of a tough month for me. I am usually ready for winter to be over by the time it rolls around. I start to really miss the sun and the long days of summer. It is also the month for Family Reunion, which if you know me than you have heard of it--it is the largest Keller Williams event of the year. I spent eight days in Orlando for the convention, and while it was a lot of work and exhausting, it was the best Family Reunion (out of the five) I've been to!

February was a little more difficult this year because my mother's Mom passed away on February 10. We were blessed to have Mama for 96 years, but as a friend put it so succinctly, no matter how long you get to have your family on this earth it still hurts when they leave. Still my heart is full from all of the family and friends that showed their love that week with flowers, special cards, prayers, visits, and donations to the cancer society in her name.

Obituary link:

 http://www.broussardsmortuary.com/services.asp?page=odetail&id=5335

On the day she died, I sat down and wrote this letter as a tribute to her and as my way of saying goodbye. I also thought what better way to honor her than to share my memories with all of you. Thank you for reading!

What did you dream of as you were going home? 

Were you thinking of cotton fields and horse drawn carriages? Or of the days when you made cush-cush with corn bread, or pumped your own water? Were your last thoughts in English or French? Maybe you were remembering the grandfather I never had the chance to know.

 

Or maybe you thought about when your family first owned a car, or when you moved from Louisiana to Texas. Maybe it was thoughts of electricity and running water. Or maybe about the last phone you saw that was much smaller than just the receiver of the one you first owned. That reminds me of the roll of paper by the old phone in your kitchen that all of your grandkids unrolled when we came over to write on and prove that we were here.

 

Did you dream of all the places you went in your long life? You were always active, from your family in Louisiana to your trips to Hawaii and Florida. Through most of your days you were never afraid to go anywhere by yourself or talk to anyone that you met. You were one of those grandmothers who talked to anyone who listened about her experiences or family.

 

Did you think of your children? You had four daughters, Audrey, Melva, Ena and Connie, and their children and children’s children, that you left your legacy of hard work and determination with each of them. It was never in your nature to give up (some call that stubborn, others call it survival). You, along with my grandfather, came up with ways to barter and create a living for your family through farms, cotton fields and building houses. Yours was a tough life, and I never heard you complain. That just wasn’t what you did with the life God gave you.

 

Did you dream of the beautiful flowers in your garden? I think of the day lilies and the crepe myrtles that are in so many of our Easter pictures from my childhood. You tended your yard well into your late years which in turn kept you healthy and thriving like the flowers and vegetables in a row. Allof your children and grandchildren would catch a glimpse of your work when fetching the key to the house (under the ice chest in the green house around back) that remained a silent reminder that the door was always open. I can still hear the screen door slam shut as we entered the old house on Duff Drive. Did you hear it?

 

More importantly, did you hear Jesus calling you home to be with him and all the loved ones that went before you? Like Ruby Arceneaux, hers was the first funeral I ever attended, did she call you in? Your friends over the years that you outlived in your good health, your sisters and brothers, your daughters' husbands, Winston and Melvin, and Michael and his sweet daughter, Haley. And of course Mr. Melancon is there too. Was my Mother’s  Daddy waiting patiently to have you join him in a new and everlasting peace?

 

We won’t know what you dreamed of as you were going home until we join you, and we are so grateful that your journey with us has come to a close so that you can be with our Lord today, tomorrow, and for eternity. We love you MaMa.