Remembering My Mother

“Her children arise up, and call her blessed;” – Proverbs 31:28a

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day. I know that I will be celebrated by my children, and it will be a joyous day for the most part. The greatest difficulty for me is not being in the presence of my own mother to honor her. She passed from this life to her eternal one almost 30 years ago, and I miss her more than words can say. This is my tribute to her.

My mom was a very strong woman. She was born in rural Japan, just a stone’s throw from Hiroshima. As the youngest of four children, I imagine she was well looked after, especially after her father died when she was only twelve years old. Whatever career goals she had were abruptly put on hold when Japan chose to engage the United States in war when Emperor Hirohito ordered the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Schooling for her was interrupted, and she had to go to work as a young teen.

At the age of 17, she was an eyewitness to the atomic bomb explosion in Hiroshima. Once she shared with me her memories of the bright light, the heat from the blast, and the horrific after-effects of the radiation. Hiroshima was destroyed, but thankfully, the small village in which my mother and her family lived was somewhat sheltered from the deadly radiation and force of the explosion. She was a survivor.

Years later, during the Korean conflict, my mother met my father, a US serviceman, and they fell in love and married. She then moved to the United States to begin a new life in a land where she knew no one, barely spoke the language, and dwelt among those to whom the memories of WWII were still fresh. Many still considered her “the enemy”, yet she persevered and made a life for herself and her husband in America. She was determined.

In later years, my mother faced great challenges including a divorce and a chronic illness that her physicians hypothesized was a direct result of being exposed to atomic bomb radiation. This illness led to years of repeated hospitalizations due to SLE (systemic lupus erythematosus) and renal failure. Eventually, she learned to do peritoneal dialysis when her shunts for renal dialysis continued to fail due to her autoimmune disease. She was no longer able to work, but she maintained a positive outlook… at least when in my presence. She was courageous.

Her last years of life were filled with the joys of being a grandmother, and she doted on my children, always delighted to watch them for me when I went to work. Due to her many years of learning to live “without”, she had the greatest ability to create fun times with my son and daughter. She often played “Mr. Potato Head” with real potatoes and vegetables, or let the children build forts out of her many dialysis boxes. She was loving.

One of the greatest concerns I had for my mother was her relationship with God. Being raised in Japan, she was a Shintoist, although she didn’t go to temple here or demonstrate any real evidence of her faith in that religion. I, having accepted Christ as my Saviour at the age of 12, was burdened for my mother’s eternal destination, and would often share the gospel message with her. She listened politely, but never made a decision for Christ. It wasn’t until her last year of life that the Holy Spirit of God opened her eyes to her need for Jesus. One of the greatest joys of my life was sharing the message of salvation with my mother and listen to hear pray from her heart and accept Christ. We were in the hospital at the time, and her joy was bubbling over. In fact, her first declaration of her new faith was when a nurse came into the room. My mother burst out, “Today is the first day that I am a Christian!” I couldn’t hold my tears back. She was saved!

When my mother passed away, I was at her side. A few days before she died, she told her physician that she was ready to go home. He gently said to her that she was too sick to go home. She smiled sweetly and said, “No, I am ready to go home to Jesus.” Again, I cried tears of gratitude to a God who cared enough to touch the heart of my mom and prepare her for this final journey, secure in His promises of eternal life in heaven with Him. She was comforted.

So, this Mother’s Day, I will look upward and whisper “Happy Mother’s Day” to my mom who faced so many obstacles in her life and overcame them. I know she sacrificed so much for me… too much to write here, but needless to say, it was monumental. She was never a selfish woman, but instead, she gave all of herself to me and my children without reservation. She was memorable.

I would give anything to be able to tell my mom one more time how much I appreciate her… how much I admire her… and how much I love her. I know that one day I will be able to tell her all these things and so much more. I was so blessed to be her daughter, and I will forever be grateful that she was my mother.

“For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.”- Romans 10:13

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“A mother is your first friend, your best friend, your forever friend.” —Unknown