Tribute by Mother
Edith, my beloved, daughter, my heart is too heavy for words standing here to speak about you, my first child, my first fruit, my companion.
It feels like trying to breathe without air.
My dear daughter, you were not just my daughter, but you were also my friend, my comfort, my strength !
Our love and bond were beyond description.
Even as age began to weaken my body and my strength diminished, whenever you called, I would rise and come.
No distance was too far.
No time was inconvenient.
A mother’s heart does not calculate inconvenience ,regardless.
It only responds to love.
There was never a day we did not check on each other.
Morning or evening, one of us would call: “Ma, how are you?” or “My daughter, are you okay?”
Those simple words carried so much warmth.
We gisted together, laughed together, and encouraged each other through life’s burdens.
When I was worried, you would say,
“Ma, don’t worry. I will recover fully very soon.”
You spoke with faith. You spoke with hope. And I believed you!
Even on the very day you left us, I spoke to you on the phone. Your voice did not carry fear.
You did not complain of anything threatening.
You sounded, calmed.
Or could it be that, you didn't want me to get worried and agitated????
How was I to know that would be the last time I would hear your voice?
Oh, my daughter… if tears could build a ladder, I would climb to heaven to see you once more.
We worshipped at the same church.
We sat side by side in fellowship.
We prayed together. We believed together. You loved the Lord deeply.
Your faith was uncompromising and even in your suffering, you trusted God.
As a mother, I ask questions in my quiet moments.
Why should a mother bury her first child?
Why should I call and not hear your voice
again?
But even in my pain, I remember the God we served together.
The God who gives and the God who takes away.
The Bible says in Isaiah 66:13,
“As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you.”
Today, I ask the Lord to comfort me because the pain of losing you is deeper than words can explain.
A part of me has gone with you.
You were my pride.
You were my joy.
Death cannot break the bond between a mother and her daughter.
It only separates us for a while.
Though my arms can no longer hold you, my heart will hold you forever.
Though my ears cannot hear your daily call, your voice echoes within me.
Though my eyes cannot see you sitting beside me in church, I know you are now worshipping in a greater sanctuary, in the presence of the Almighty.
My daughter, you assured me of recovery.
Today, I choose to believe that you have received the ultimate recovery and freedom from pain,
freedom from suffering and eternal healing in Christ Jesus.