Today has been a day of missing mom.
An older lady in my seminary class was getting ready to take a break with the rest of us. She said “Adam, I need help.” We had been sitting for a good 90 minutes and her knees needed some convincing before unbending. “As long as you guys can get me on my feet, I’ll be fine.” Me and another guy helped our classmate up. She thanked us and said “I’ve got cancer”. “Where?” “All over.” She shrugged her shoulders and said “Eh.”
Helping her to stand reminded me of the final days when we’d help Mom get from point to point in the house, the same house that she transformed from a dirty bungalow into a gorgeous estate. Hearing that she had cancer felt very different than it would have a few years ago. Back then, I’d tsk and say something mundane like “Well, God doesn’t give us more than we can handle” or “you’re very strong” or “cancer rhymes with dancer”. I never actually said the last thing, but I’m sure I thought it at least once.
Today, I felt like crying for her.
I didn’t. It would have been strange for her and scary to the rest of the class. In the movies, if a big guy is crying, he’s about to 1) break every table and person in the room or 2) turn green and break every table and person in the room. I’m okay with emotions, but I’m still learning what to do with the feelings of losing my mom. Unless you’ve been there, you may not know what I’m saying.
Tonight I called my Dad and asked him the kind of question I would have normally reserved for my Mom. I learned early on that there are Mom questions, and there are Dad questions. Different categories are ok. Though I can’t be sure, I think that what he said is exactly what my Mom would have said.
This, too, reminded me of how much I miss my Mom.
I’ll never really know what she would have said to the issue I raised with Dad. I can only guess at what she might have said, based on what she’s said in the past. Oh, I’ve got a good pile of data there. She was no stranger to my big questions. Dad was spot on, just as I would have expected. It was good. It is good.
But it makes me wonder. Can people in heaven see what we’re doing? Does God keep those who’ve gone before us in the loop? Do they have reason to know or care?
Yet again, one of those questions I would have asked Mom. Even with all the classes, all the books, all the doctrines and theologies I’ve studied, I’d still want to know what she thought.
She would have said “I don’t know”.
And I would have been very satisfied with that answer.