Here it is. The bag full of clothing I no longer wear. I’m glad I can donate them to someone who can use them. Maybe I should look through it one more time.
Yep. Buying mistakes. Styles that have come and gone. Some no longer fit. Clothes I will never wear again.
But, wait a minute. What’s this?
Memories flooded my mind of the numerous times I saw her wear this brown jacket. I held it up to my nose, and as I breathed in her scent, tears quickly filled my eyes.
It still smells like Mom. How can that be? It’s been seven years!
What was I thinking?? I can’t give this away. This is the closest thing to Mom I have left.
I sat on my bed in utter amazement of her lasting scent, and of the trail of memories seeing this jacket led me down. There was no stopping the rush of tears.
Seven years and four months ago–to the very day–my beautiful mother passed from this life into eternity with Jesus.
There are days, unexpected like this, when the pain of losing her is still so real and raw. The flood of tears is overwhelming. The ache of missing her seems almost unbearable.
Yet, the precious memories of the times only she and I shared are cherished blessings and priceless gifts to me. The memories my children have of their amazing grandmother cause them to smile. She was one incredible woman. And I’m reminded of her almost daily as I look in the mirror.
I wish she was here today. I have so much to tell her.
Tomorrow is Easter or what many call Resurrection Sunday. I don’t believe I’ve ever been more grateful for it as I am this year. The same power that raised Jesus from the dead that first Resurrection Sunday, is the same power that raised my mother from her death to eternal life. And that’s the same power that will raise me.
I have hope… because of Jesus.
I have hope… because of Resurrection Sunday.
I have hope… because I will see Mom again one day.
I have hope… because truly, I will never die. I will just pass from this life into eternity.
I pray, friend, you have this hope too.
When the ones we love leave our presence here on earth, it becomes a little more bearable knowing we’ll see them again in heaven.
All because of Jesus.
That lovely brown jacket found its way back on a hanger and back into my closet. Bill thinks I should keep it in a sealed bag to keep it smelling like Mom. Maybe I will some day. But for now, each time I see it hanging in the midst of my jackets, I’ll thank God for my incredible mother, and I’ll thank Jesus for His indescribable gift.
Happy Easter, my friend.
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