Last Modified: Saturday, May 12, 2012 4:02 PM
A mother’s love for her son or daughter is like no other. Even when we have no idea, they are watching out for us, praying for us, and all the while loving us.
As many mothers who are still in our lives to honor today, there are countless others who are no longer with us.
For some, this might be the first year without your mom on Mother’s Day. For others, it is still bittersweet with each passing year of her absence.
March 21 marked seven years since my husband’s mother, Mildred Seal, passed away.
If there is one word that sums up the kind of person Mildred was in my eyes, it would be: faithful.
She was faithful to God. She was faithful to her family. She was faithful to her friends. She was faithful to her longtime church — Westlake Assembly of God.
If Mildred knew you, then you can be certain she was praying for you. It’s what she knew, and it’s what she made a priority every day of her life.
Before I married her youngest son, Allen, I rented a house next door to Mildred. More precisely, she was my landlord. But it was an arrangement I never took advantage of. I had too much respect for Mildred and the type of person she was — a true friend who would help you in any way within her means.
I can recall many mornings hearing cars drive up Mildred’s driveway, which was just outside my bedroom window. Some days it might just be one car, other mornings two or three. Her early morning visitors were close friends who enjoyed praying as much as she did. A few names I recall are Bertha Burgess, Evelyn Hamilton and Mary Miller.
Another prayer partner lived next door on the other side of Mildred’s house, so she would just walk over. Her name was Patsy Biscamp. She was also Mildred’s sister-in-law.
While I was never a part of those morning prayer meetings, I did have the privilege of getting to know several of Mildred’s friends over the years. They were all strong in their faith and supported one another through everything.
One thing I remember and was thankful for when it came to my mother-in-law, was her ability to welcome anyone into her home. Even before Allen and I were married, she always treated me like one of her own.
One could tell by the photos displayed throughout her home that she loved her family. She told me that she prayed over pictures of her family often, especially if one of them was going through a difficult time.
Mildred strongly believed in the power of prayer — even if you didn’t know she was praying for you.
Allen looks back on his high school years when he said he ran with a rowdy bunch. His parents tried to keep a tight reign on him as best they could — and in most cases, Allen knew just how far he could go.
When he was old enough to drive, he said he remembers always finding small red cloths under his car seat or smudges on his windshield. He didn’t think much of it at the time, but later in life, he realized those were prayer cloths placed in his car by his mother to protect him. The smudges, he said, were from the anointing oil she would smear on his windows. That’s just one of hundreds of memories Allen has of his mother.
When I asked him what is one thing he misses most about having her around, he said: the sharing of stories about their relatives. When his mother died, so did the stories of her family history and all she knew about it up to that point.
Just because Mildred is no longer with us, we do our best to keep her memory alive through our own sharing of stories and the many ways she touched our lives and made them better.
On this Mother’s Day, I thank God for the gift of all mothers — past and present. It’s the perfect time to embrace the stories of their lives.
Life Editor Pamela Seal is a frequent contributor to Sunday Talk. Email her at email@example.com