Tribute to Big Mummy
They say we look almost the same; they even gave me your name. I’ll sit close to you and steal extremely long peeks, trying to figure out if I’d really look exactly like you when I’m your age, or if you looked exactly like I do, when you were my age.
I knew you were prepared to leave, but sometimes I’ll selfishly speak life to you, wishing you would at least get to a 100 years, (I have no idea why, but I thought it would be cool) or maybe you might want to meet that “Mr Right” you’ve been showering blessings on (I thought you deserved to have as much children’s children’s children’s children as you desired).
I know you were accomplished, but I still feel sad. I know you’ll still be around somehow, and watch over me, from your heavenly new home, but I still miss you; I always will.
I watched a lot of young people leave, I didn’t realize you would say good bye too, although I’ll say you lived to the fullest; with children, children’s children, and children’s children’s children (or child). Most of the others were full of life, with dreams and it seemed like they had their lives all figured out. It got me wondering what life really meant, if one day all your dreams and goals are cut short. You reminded me about God’s promise of a better life, one that would be more than enough
Exodus 20:12 says: Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee
Ephesians 6: 1-3 says: Children obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right. Honour thy father and thy mother; (which is the first commandment with a promise) that it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth.
So, I know just what to do, to follow in your footsteps.
Your leaving might have been shocking for me; there was still a lot I hoped for, with you in it. I’ve come to realize that procrastination is bad; very bad.
I regret my nonchalant attitude towards time, and apologize for not living the dreams I had you in, while you were here with me. I’ll go ahead and live them, hoping you’ll still be here, (The other way; in your new heavenly body) because my only wish for you right now, is that you have a perfect rest in Heaven.
I’ll miss your stories, your endless showers of blessings; (from me, to my endless generations) when people call me lucky, I laugh, because somehow I know where these blessings come from. I’ll miss your awkward sense of humour, (Because I’m a 21st century kid), your independent spirit, your act of love, our little secrets, (yes, we had them) your wise words of advice, and that smile that came with appreciation; even for the littlest act of kindness.
You taught me contentment, friendship (with your kind), thankfulness, hopefulness, faith in God, endurance, and many more. I wouldn’t call you perfect, or imperfect; you were just human (my favourite wisdom genie)
Thank you for everything, it was lovely knowing you.