For 25 years my mother had a home in a quiet little community. A home that we would come to be fed and loved on. It was the home that she and my father helped me raise my children in. Every Monday for many years I would bring the children to their house for Monday night dinner. There were endless times that they helped my children with homework or would bake with them or take them out golfing or to the park. That home was the place where Christmas Eve dinners would be served with the wonderful aroma of Swedish meatballs and ham. The home where birthdays were celebrated with moms amazing angel food cake…home made goodness! The home where the cousins would gather for ball in the back yard. A place where coffee around the dining room table was the norm. This was the home where my father took his last breath..before seeing Glory. A true home…full of memories.
This past week we joined my mother, at her now empty home, for one last toast and prayer of thanksgiving. For my mother’s home was no longer hers. Just the memories remain. She had sold her home to another family. Our prayers were not only prayers of thanksgiving for what we had experienced there, but also for the family to come.
Then, after we said our goodbyes we headed up the hill to my brothers home where she now lives. We ushered in a new era with the smells of moms cooking again. She had made her fantastic pot roast and fruit salad…and of course, angel food cake. We all know how truly blessed we are as a family.