My last Lenten Devotion was about a miracle, and now I have another one to write about my mother's death. Surprised? Well, here is the story of Mary Schoonmaker.
As Mother entered into her nineties, I began to think of her end and because she was so alive, so cheerful and fun-loving, and basically healthy, I couldn't bear the thought of her going into a nursing home; she just couldn't end her happy life that way! I prayed every day that she would either fall down dead or die in her sleep, hopefully not soon. I feel certain that she was praying for somewhat the same thing. And then, Praise the Lord, it happened.
My son, Will, and I spent her last evening over at her house. Will did some odd jobs for her. Then we all watched a movie we'd been waiting to see while eating her homemade molasses cookies and drinking coffee. We left between 10 and 11, and when I returned the next afternoon to take her to a doctor appointment I found her dead. She had died in her sleep, apparently just as peaceful as could be, at age 93.
Mother's family always has been, and still is, deeply involved in their church. We grew up with Mother and her Kentucky family singing hymns every day and they quoted the Bible just as much as Shakespeare or the poets. Her oldest sister played the organ at church for sixty years and there is a stained glass window honoring their mother. She was the last of her generation on both sides of her family and Daddy's, so I know she is peaceful and happy to once again be with all those loved ones. When the time came, I'm sure she looked up, smiling her adorable dimpled smile and sang, "Take my hand, Precious Lord, lead me home." And I am daily grateful that Mother departed this world from her own home.
Dear Lord, "this is my story, this is my song, praising my savior, all the day long." Amen.
Kitty Stephenson
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