I Remember Mama
In the 1948 film, I Remember Mama, the daughter of Norwegian immigrants tells of the trials and blessings of growing up in San Francisco at the turn of the last century. As Mother’s Day approaches I find myself remembering my mama. She passed away nearly thirty years ago. Her funeral was held on Mother’s Day, 1996.
It’s the little things that remind me of her.
When I pass an Archway Cookie display in a grocery store, I think of Mom’s bread drawer, a stainless-steel bin where she kept bread and a supply of raspberry filled Archway cookies. I still remember when we would visit her, the first place my boys would go is to her bread drawer. She’d put on the tea kettle, and we’d chat for an hour or two.
Another memory has stayed with me. I recall it every time I watch a Perry Mason rerun while eating my lunch. I was very young when Perry Mason was a lunchtime treat for the mystery lover in my mother. She’d make a plate of buttered noodles with a dusting of salt and pepper and sit down to watch Raymond Burr outsmart the doers of deadly deeds.
I can’t remember a time when my mother felt good. She had a condition called HHT, hereditary haemorrhagic teleangiectasia. One overwhelming condition of HHT is the tendency to suffer from nosebleeds. And she did. Her nosebleeds would last for hours. I can still see rags in the bathroom sink soaking in dark red water. Sorry if that picture bothers you. I know many people aren’t used to the sight of blood the way my family is.
Migraines and anemia could lay her low, yet she cleaned and cooked and ironed for my dad and six children. Many times my siblings and I would come home from school and find Mom standing at the ironing board. Shirts and school dresses hung on a rod nearby, a testament that she’d been there for hours. Yet, on the kitchen table would be a tub of freshly baked cookies.
My mother was not raised in a Christian home. Nor was I. But God’s grace reached me, my sisters, my brothers, and eventually my parents. We even held weekly Bible studies in her home. I can’t say my mother’s personality changed a lot after she met Jesus the way many peoples’ do. But that’s because she was always kind, caring for others, and serving despite physical weakness.
We often gathered at her home for a family meal. Today, when I put on a big meal for a family gathering, I tend to feel done in afterwards. I can’t imagine how exhausted those large family gatherings at Mom’s house must have left her. She often set aside her own plans to serve her children and the barrage of grandchildren who appeared at her door.
Three years before she passed away at the age of 68, Mom suffered a stroke—a constant threat to anyone with HHT. Over those final few years her condition became so severe she needed 24-hour care.
When God called her home, we rejoiced that her suffering was over. Some members of her family did not understand why we were smiling at the funeral. But if you know Jesus and you know your loved one knows Jesus, you understand.
Revelation 21:4 says, And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away.
Now that makes me happy . . . when I remember mama.