Remembering a Missing Friend

Remember this?

A dear friend of mine died during elective surgery, 12 years ago.

English: Flower arrangement for funeral Dansk:...

Flower arrangement for funeral (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A home-educating mom, she left behind two young children and their faithful dad. Last time I saw them, the kids were doing fine. Actually, they were not so young anymore, then, one in high school and the other in college. They showed many signs of good parenting. It made me glad for the memory of their mother, my friend.

She had always been so heart-felt. She and I could talk about any serious subject and seemingly always understand each other before we had completed a sentence. When a subject was especially deep or important to her, she would become misty-eyed as she spoke. That happens to me, too, and often did when we conversed. We both understood that about each other.

This seriousness in her shows in her children. Oh, they laugh. In fact, their beautiful smiles erupt at any chance, and they see the humor in life’s oddities, all the time.

They are not silly, though. They are something more like blossoming or fruitful. They have combined the gentle rain their dad always supplied into their lives with the sunlight their mother always added. They have become strong, tall trees and have dedicated their lives to doing right. It makes me glad for the memory of their mother, my friend.

Somewhere out there exists a video of her delivering an impromptu speech about her strong convictions on homeschooling. She is near tears as she speaks for the record, as I was every time I viewed it. She pleaded with parents to take their children seriously.

This distillation of her heartbeat riveted me to my seat on every viewing. She was younger than I was, then, far younger than I am now, yet her bold insistence on protecting and preparing children imparted strength to my backbone. Only a hardhearted person could walk away from the truth she expressed without pondering, at least, if there might not somehow be more…

She makes me want more, every time I remember her. More grace. More energy. More conviction. More boldness. More follow-through. More prayer. More tears when I talk.

More blossoms and fruit on my trees.

More sun and rain on my trees.

More.