Ten years ago, I was visiting with my mother. A few days after our dinner together, she passed. She was 77 years old and was so happy. You see, it was a Thursday when we visited. Every Thursday after I served in the temple she made me dinner and we enjoyed each other. Well, it was five days after the terror the world witnesses (9-11) that mom laid down and never got up. I was the one who found my dear mother.
I remember that day like it was today finding her and saying, "Oh mom, don't do this to me." I called the rest of the family and told them of mom's passing. Soon many were there as the "men" took her body away. I felt I was in shock. Dad had died a few years before and all of a sudden, I was an orphan, with no mother and no father.
She died the 16th of September. I was still getting over the death of my mother when the mailman came and gave me a birthday card from my mother. She always did that. She was always on time with each of us on our birthdays. Even two days after she died, I received birthday wishes from my mother. You can imagine how special, sweet, and tearful it was to read words from mom, and see her scratchy handwriting signing the card.
As I bore witness a few weeks ago, I know that mother is still my mother though she is done with her mortality. My earthly father is still my father and the patriarch of my sisters and I. I know they look in on us once in a while.
The rest of the world commemorates the happenings of 9-11, an awful day in the history of our beloved country when many died. I pause to remember my mother who sent me birthday wishes and I received them on my very birthday, even two days after she had passed. I would call that a tender mercy from my Eternal Father, wouldn't you?
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