(She's the little one in the middle)
When I got the call to come to the hospital, the morning of February 11th, I knew I was going to lose my mother. I rushed into my snow covered truck, braved high speeds on terrible roads and prayed the whole time.
"Lord, let us get there first. We will sing to her and pray with her. We will read her psalms and her favourite verses. Just let us get there first. Let us say goodbye."
I walked into the "special" room with Meghan and Connor. My Dad and sister, Aunty Peggy and Aunty Anne were already there.
"She's gone", he said. "She died".
We wept. We sobbed out our grief in loud wails and gut wrenching moans. Daniel and Amanda joined us. Everyone but us red heads already knew the truth. We weren't going to get to say goodbye. My prayer was answered with a "No, daughter. Not this time."
I already heard that answer a few months ago. Not again! I know all too well now how our prayers are answered but not always how we desire them to be.
These are the words I spoke at the funeral:
The Millar family has forever been changed. Not only have we lost a mother, a wife and a grandmother, be we have lost our best friend, our conscience, our counseller, guide and strength.Life goes on now. One painful day at a time. She was our glue. She kept us grounded and alert. A daughter often asks: "What would I do without my mother?" And now I know. Cry! And then continue to live. Picking up pieces, comforting myself and others who need it, remembering her voice in all the little things. Just never forgetting.
She had a gift at taking one look at you and knowing there was something wrong. The one who could help put words to all the jumbled up emotions reeling around inside. She was a sign post always pointing up to God who is the source of all wisdom, joy and comfort. Each person here has been touched by my amazing mother and can attest for what I say. It astounds me that God could create a woman who was all things at once to everyone who needed her… and that I have the privilege of being her daughter. How one human being could be everything to so many people is hard to believe; but that is who God made her to be. She made a home where everyone was welcome. She taught her children to love all who were around. She instilled in us a passion to see those in need and love them with Christ’s love. She was never too busy for anyone and so her home was the warmest place to be. She was where people wanted to be.
I have always said that my mom was the person I’d most like to be. Her strength was unmatched, her wisdom unparalleled, and her love incomprehensible. I will never be just like my mom. I was created to be me, but God has graciously given me some of her attributes. And when you take myself, along with Johannah, Daniel and Connor, you get a pretty good picture of who she was. It took 4 children to encapsulate one woman and it is still not enough. She was a second mom to so many, and they too hold some of her. My mom went home as a daughter of the King. She was welcomed home with a “Well done, Good and Faithful servant!” and she is now in the presence of God with 4 of her own children and two of her grandbabies. She leaves behind a hole that can never be filled but we rejoice that she has been brought home where there is no pain or tears and where she basks in the light of God.
“My sheep listen to my voice, I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater that all; no one can snatch them out of my Fathers hands. I and the Father are one.” John 10: 27-30 My mom followed Jesus and she is in his hands forever. Praise be to God!
Life without Liz Millar is not an easy one. Its darker, it hurts and it feels aimless. Thankfully, we don't serve her, we serve our great Lord and Saviour and he gives us our direction. He reminds me of his promises so that I can mourn now but there will be joy in the morning. He will take this tragedy and turn it into healing and numerous other wonderful things.
It was the books she loved on her 50th birthday.
Some may think its unflattering but I see exactly who she is here.
I don't know how to end this post. Words have been hard to find and say. I guess I can finish with what I say when i can barely speak and when the tears are just streaming down my face.
I miss my mom.