+ Mom's Last Laugh +++ ELIXIRESS

			_ - _ E L I X I R E S S _ - _ Mom's Last Laugh Mom's Last Laugh Mom's Last Laugh
			Consumed by my loss, I didn't notice the hardness of the pew where I sat. I was at the funeral of my dearest friend - my mother. She finally had lost her long battle with cancer. The hurt was so intense; I found it hard to breathe at times. Always supportive, Mother clapped loudest at my school plays, held a box of tissues while listening to my first heartbreak, comforted me when my father died, encouraged me in college, and prayed for me my entire life. When Mother's illness was diagnosed, my sister had a new baby and my brother had recently married his childhood sweetheart, so it fell to me, the twenty-seven-year-old middle child without entanglements, to take care of her. I counted it as an honor. "What now, Lord?" I asked, sitting in the church. My life stretched out before me as an empty abyss. My brother sat stoically with his face toward the cross while clutching his wife's hand. My sister sat slumped against her husband's shoulder, his arms around her as she cradled their child. All so deeply grieving, they didn't seem to notice that I sat alone. My place had been with our mother, preparing her meals, helping her walk, taking her to the doctor, seeing to her medication, reading the Bible together. Now she was with the Lord. My work was finished, and I was alone. I heard a door open and slam shut at the back of the church. Quick footsteps hurried along the carpeted floor. An exasperated young man looked around briefly and then sat next to me. He folded his hands and placed them on his lap. His eyes were brimming with tears. He began to sniffle. "I'm sorry I'm late," he explained, though no explanation was necessary. After several eulogies, he leaned over and commented, "Why do they keep calling Mary by the name of 'Margaret'?" "Because Margaret was her name. Never Mary. No one called her 'Mary'," I whispered. I wondered why this person couldn't have sat on the other side of the church. He kept interrupting my grieving with his tears and fidgeting. Who was this stranger anyway? "No, that isn't correct," he insisted, as several people glanced over at us whispering. "Her name is Mary, Mary Peters." "That isn't whose funeral this is." "Isn't this the Lutheran church?" "No, the Lutheran church is across the street." "Oh." "I believe you're at the wrong funeral, sir." The solemn nature of the occasion mixed with the realization of the man's mistake bubbled up inside me and erupted as laughter. I cupped my hands over my face, hoping the noise would be interpreted as sobs. The creaking pew gave me away. Sharp looks from other mourners only made the situation seem more hilarious. I peeked at the bewildered, misguided man seated beside me. He was laughing, too, as he glanced around; deciding it was too late for an uneventful exit. I imagined Mother laughing. At the final "Amen," we darted out a door and into the parking lot. "I do believe we'll be the talk of the town," he smiled. He said his name was Rick and since he had missed his aunt's funeral, he asked me to join him for a cup of coffee. That afternoon began a lifelong journey for me with this man, who attended the wrong funeral, but was in the right place. A year after our meeting, we were married at a country church where he was the assistant pastor. This time we both arrived at the same church, right on time. In my time of sorrow, God gave me laughter. In place of loneliness, God gave me love. This past June we celebrated our twenty-second wedding anniversary. Whenever anyone asks us how we met, Rick tells them, "Her mother and my Aunt Mary introduced us, and it's truly a match made in heaven."		Sunflower Photo Caption "Two Angels and Rats" Copyright. www.quickinspirations.com Music: KennyG21 === I got it from a funpage sent to me by a friend. www.feelgoodpages.com * Lockets * This was e-mailed to me by a classmate, Mai. I love reading stories like this... very touching. It's not a bad idea then to spend time reading it. I really cried after I did read this. See for yourself. Sometimes, we put too much value on things that God realizes how much we value that thing or one so much... that we almost forget He's still there... and we just have to call for Him to keepsake the one we value so much that we do not even have to take care for it ourselves. If that is the case then, it is not so good. It is like forgetting God already. And if we do it that way, God will teach us a lesson and will do something or take something away... sometimes, He takes that one we value so much. If He does so, we can never retrieve it. We just have to cherish the times we had before with the one taken away. For such, it just has to serve as a lesson for us. This time, God is just knocking at our closed doors. He wants us to remember Him. That we just have to remember that what He took was just something or someone that He has the rights to take back... that He is just taking back something that indeed in the very beginning was His. According to the Easter Philosopher, Chuang Tzu, "3 Days of mourning is enough. Life has to move one. I can't spend all my life mourning for something that can never be put back to life where in the case I am the one alive and I just have to live it." Indeed he was right. We have to let go then. We do not have to trap them here. We just need then to think that wherever they are, for sure they are already happy because they are now with the One who really deserves to have them back. Like in the story ... they are already happy.