August 25, 2005
Here am I
Right now my mom, stepfather, aunt and uncle are on a cruise ship, floating somewhere off the coast of Ireland. They left last Friday for this two week adventure that is taking them to France, Holland, Brussels, Ireland and Scotland before a five day trip back to the states via the Port of New York. Trust me when I say I was a nervous wreck the night they flew out. As I've mentioned before, my flying fear is ever present, and this extends to people like my mother flying across an OCEAN for the first time in her 62-year life. She called me from their connection in Chicago and told me she was a bit nervous, but that you know, when it's your time, it's your time! (to be said in a chipper manner), and that she would try and figure out how to work a calling card but that I could reach them on the phone my uncle Bill rented for the trip, "But it's $4 a minute, so only if it's an emergency!"
I tacked their itinerary on my bulletin board at work, so every day I can see where they are, and imagine all the fun they're having and crazy stories they're sure to return with. I just hope my mom's digital camera keeps all the photos she takes and that she eventually figures out how to get them off the camera, onto her computer and into an e-mail to send to me. (This may never happen.)
For the past three days there's been a card or a letter in my mailbox from her. On the back of yesterday's envelope there was a little "22" written in the upper corner, so now I'm assuming I can look forward to a letter a day while she's away, and that she numbered them for her sister so she would know on what day to drop which letter in the mail. This is so my mother, that in her preparations for literally the trip of her lifetime, to wanted to ensure that I know she loves me and that she's thinking of me, even an ocean away, in a foreign land she probably figured she'd never see.
In yesterday's card was a passage from one of her favorite hymns (and though she didn't know it, one of mine), "Take My Life."
Take my life and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee
Take my moments and my days
Let them flow in ceaseless praise
Take my hands and let them move
At the impulse of Thy love
Take my feet and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee
- Frances R. Havergal, 1874
She lives every day in this manner - it doesn't matter if she's in Small Town, Ohio or standing on a beach in Normandy. She is, simply, everything to me and I am ever grateful that God blessed me with such a mother. We're more alike than often I know, and my daily prayer is that this remains true and that it remains true for the remainder.
Posted by hannah at 05:52 PM
