After someone you love dies there are many questions about them that suddenly seem unanswerable. Especially, when death comes without warning. Maybe you can’t remember what their favorite flower was, when they fell in love for the first time, or what parting advice they would give those who follow in their footsteps.

            You frantically search your memory bank at a loss for filling in the missing pieces, berating yourself for not listening more intently. Somehow, this is heightened when you grapple with questions about your own mother.

Perhaps, you think of conversation you once had. How like most children regardless of your age, you selfishly shared your own happenings. While your mom, patiently listened intently focused on your well-being, never expressing her deepest desires or besetting fears.

            With Mother’s Day approaching, the second without my mom, it could have been my experience to battle the frustration of not knowing more about her journey. After all, often our mothers don’t seem like individuals with lives of their own, until we have children. Then we realize the true sacrifice of motherhood is always putting your offspring’s needs first.

            We take grandparents for granted, too. In explanation, when my maternal grandmother died in 1993, I was saddened by how little I knew about this dedicated nurturer. Despite spending a lifetime chatting, I was at a loss to sketch a complete portrait of her. I cried when I realized I didn’t even know what Gram’s favorite color was. Finally settling that it must have been blue, but I’ll never know for sure.

            Unlike my grandmother, when my mother, Glenna Giesken Sprang left this earth on October 13, 2010, she didn’t leave any questions unanswered. Even though she died abruptly from a kidney stone gone terribly wrong, she had the foresight to write a memoir titled, “Reflections from a Mother’s Heart.” The then 74-year-old matriarch gave her children this unusual gift on Christmas 2006.

            I didn’t read the 58 page spiral bound booklet when I received it. My life was moving at a fast pace, and I erroneously thought I knew most of what was recorded in it. Absentmindedly, I placed it in my white wicker magazine rack never realizing that when I sat down to study its pages, Mom would be gone.

            Through a question and answer format, she shared countless childhood experiences, romantic memories, convictions about her core values, and an explanation of her abiding faith, despite some difficult days. Mom also expressed her belief that we all have our own unique story.

            In some ways, I deeply regret not taking time to read this memoir while she was alive to discuss it with her in detail. In other ways, it has been such a gift reading it now. Sitting down with a cup of coffee and pouring over the booklet’s informative pages, has been like having one of our marathon conversations.

            In explanation, for the last three decades of our lives, Mom and I lived 600 miles apart, and long-distance truly was “the next best thing to being there.” Through our phone provider’s family plan, we racked up priceless moments.

            I also visited my mother in Philadelphia whenever I could, but it wasn’t often enough. Because I never imagined that she wouldn’t be here for the huge 80^th birthday celebration that I had hoped we would have for her on May 3^rd this year.

            A very wise nurse once told me, that when we love someone deeply, “We always think we will see them one more time.” Besides, we can’t believe that the one, who gave us birth, tended our banged-up knees and broken hearts could ever leave us.

            Despite the fact that she is no longer here, Mom remains in our hearts and in the legacy of her words. For example, in her reflections, one of the most important life lessons that she records is a reminder that, “….all things work together for good for those who love God.” [Romans 8:28]

           Based on this Biblical promise, she writes, “When you’ve messed up…remember this. There is no mistake so big that God’s mercy is not bigger. I have found…that some things I considered failures turned out to be blessings.”

            Another lesson, “Always try to leave a person…a little happier for having met you – encourage,” she advised. Based on this, my own parting advice is why not surprise your loved ones with a Mother’s Day extraordinaire? Don’t let those words of appreciation go unsaid.

             If there are deep wounds between you and your mom, try to find it in your heart to forgive. This might be the greatest gift you can give to her and to yourself this year, because you never know when it will be your last. In parting, from the road less traveled, I wish you all the very best this Mother’s Day!

            Christina Ryan Claypool is an Amy Award winning freelance journalist and an inspirational speaker. This column was originally published in the Sidney Daily News on May 9, 2012.

On a Sunday morning a few years ago, I winced inwardly as the preacher promised, “We will never ever have to have another down day because of the Word of God.”

I had found the fellowship listed in a phone book tucked in a drawer in my husband’s hospital room. Since our home was a state away, I had spent the previous four nights sleeping restlessly on a cot next to Larry’s bed.

Although my mind and body were exhausted that Sunday morning, my hope was steadfast because my spouse’s medical condition was temporary. Yet other believers I knew where not so fortunate. I thought of those who had lost loved ones, were struggling with an addiction, battling a life-threatening illness, experiencing financial crisis, or heartbroken by a prodigal child or divorce.

As the minister went on to speak of folks who wanted to wallow in unfortunate situations in quest of sympathy, I couldn’t help but smile rather wryly. After all, long ago I had embraced this same belief. My theology back then was based on the fiery zeal of youthful faith, which had not been tempered.

Don’t get me wrong, tempered faith is not a burnt-out disbelief in the miracles created by God’s supernatural working power. However, it is the ability to trust God despite our circumstances, and to trust in the ways in which our Creator chooses to assist us in our times of trouble. After all, suffering is often a part of the Christian walk, but as mature believers we “consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” Romans 8:18 NIV

Almost two decades ago, an elderly woman who I’ll call Minnie taught me this valuable lesson. I attended church with this silver-haired senior whose frail body had been attacked by a serious illness. Since I had often seen God’s miraculous power heal either instantly or gradually through medical treatment, every week I waited expectantly for Minnie’s miracle.

At that time, in my naïve opinion anyone not healed of some disease, financial dilemma, or other adverse condition must somehow lack faith. Having this rigid black and white theological stance prevented me from offering comfort to Minnie Sunday after Sunday.

However, a chance encounter in a restaurant enabled me to view her in a very different light. In God’s sovereignty, chance encounters are actually divine appointments orchestrated for our good.

Over the salad bar, I smiled at Minnie in greeting that long ago afternoon, and asked the elderly Christian how she was doing. Minnie was having a really down day so she replied that she wasn’t doing very well.

Trying to help, I told the fragile woman she needed to speak the blessings of God over her life. She looked at me like an animal caught in a trap, one pierced by its sharp metal teeth. A volcanic whirlwind seemed to swirl about her as she tried to compose herself, but it was too late. Minnie’s wrinkled eyes flashed angrily as she very distinctively spat out a mild profanity. Instantly, she was remorseful, broken, and about to burst into tears when she whispered, “I’m sorry, but I’m hurting so badly.”

Suddenly, when I looked at Minnie, I saw her through God’s eyes and waves of His compassion flooded over me. Instantly, I asked Minnie to forgive me for being insensitive to her pain.

Since that day I have learned that it is not sympathy that folks like Minnie want when they walk a difficult path, one that they must travel far longer then they ever expected. Rather it is empathy that they so desperately desire. To empathize is to identify, and when we identify we don’t just feel sorry, but we do something to help. This process births the compassion that Jesus spoke of so freely.

If I could replay that scene with Minnie, I would have encouraged her to, “Not give up!” I would have also committed to walk her painful path with her through my prayers, while reassuring the struggling saint that in Hebrews 13:5 Jesus promises to “never leave or forsake” us not even on the most difficult days that we spend on this Earth. Finally, I would have reminded Minnie of the eternal promise in Romans 8:23 of a glorified body that will never again experience sickness or death.

Christina Ryan Claypool is an inspirational speaker and author, who has been featured on CBN’s 700 Club. Contact through her Website at www.christinaryanclaypool.com.