A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of having lunch with a very dear lady in my life, Carol Golden. She would describe herself as my friend, but it goes so much deeper than that in my eyes. Carol was one of my Mom's close friends through her circle of women at church and carries a lot of the same viewpoints and qualities my Mom had. She and her husband, Bob, were leaders in the college ministry at my church when I was in college and those were sweet times. As I was "finding myself" and didn't want to share those things with my Mom, Carol was that listening ear that would give wise counsel in a non-threatening way because she wasn't my Mom.
Shortly after my Mom's death, Carol and I spent a lot of time together. She's walked with me through that sad time in my life, let me lament over broken relationships, and always would remind me that she was praying for me. I learned from her months later that she and the circle of women who were closest to my Mom at church had promised they would watch out for me once she was gone. That promise still touches my heart today through these friendships and models for me what true Christian friendship is all about.
Whenever I can get quality time with Carol, it's a treat. This one Saturday we got to visit a local antique mall and have lunch in their quaint cafe. Spending time with Carol is like drinking from a flowing fountain or applying the Balm of Gilead. I never spend time with her that I don't walk away refreshed, renewed and rested. Usually every time we're together she shares with me a conversation she had with my Mom. That is a precious treasure that I can tuck away in my heart and pull out on those days when I'm missing a dose of my Mom.
During our time that day, Carol shared with me about the recent loss of her Aunt. She viewed her like another Mother and so missed her. One of the talents her Aunt possessed was doing calligraphy. She had done it for years and Carol found it fascinating. Then Carol said something that resonated so true with me. She said, "I want to learn calligraphy. It would be like keeping a remnant of my Aunt with me." Wow. All of a sudden I realized the remnants in my life I had held on to because they were things my Mom enjoyed. My Mom was an avid reader and encouraged that in my life at a very young age. I've committed to read more each year because I love it and the knowledge it brings. But now, I see it is a remnant of my Mom I'll carry with me. Also, my challenging goal of crocheting a complete project is another remnant, albeit frayed. My Mom made afghans for every couple that married, every baby that was born and anyone else who looked cold. To be able to be successful at that is yet another remnant I can carry.
The uttering of the phrase "keeping a remnant" just floods my mind with all sorts of visuals. I want to keep even the smallest threads from all those in my life that have made a difference and design a beautiful tapestry that one day will be worn into threads....threads that I hope others will keep as remnants of me.