I recently blogged about the death of my mom and really appreciate the kindness many of you have expressed. What I didn’t share was two accompanying experiences.

We were in San Antonio with our twin grandsons when the phone rang at 3:13 a.m. with the news from my brother that mom had died. We gathered our “stuff”, had a hasty breakfast at McDonalds and headed back to Monroe to drop the twins off, get some rest and fresh clothes, and then make the 11 hour trip to Asheville, N.C.

In Rockdale, Texas a lady ran a stop sign and totaled our van. None of us were injured. I stuffed a towel into the top of the sliding door to stop the wind noise and we started toward home. A few miles down the highway the door chime started to sound. I had no tools, could not find a mechanic in any of the few towns big enough to have a garage, and for about 4 or 5 hours we drove with the constant “ding, ding, ding” of the “door ajar” warning.

On Thursday morning we rented a car from Avis and drove to Asheville. After the funeral and burial, mom’s church had a wonderful meal for us. As we were visiting with family and friends an old friends wife asked loudly “Who is driving the white car with Tenn. plates?” Although it had Louisiana plates I somehow knew it was my rental. Sure enough, after she left a covered dish for us she backed her car into the rental car damaging it to the tune of $500 plus.

We have settled with the insurance company, located another van, newer, more luxurious, and with 50,000 less miles for only about $3,000 more than the insurance check.

To say the least, the last several days have been at times hectic. But, we are healthy (except for my constant allergies), I got my square foot garden partially planted yesterday, yard work all caught up, and life is good.

Thanks again to all of you who have prayed for us during the time of our loss. The pastor asked me at the beginning of the service, “Royce, how long was your mom blind?” I replied “About 50 years”. He continued, “Just think, blind for 50 years and the very first thing she sees is Jesus!”

What assurance we have all because of the one who is the Resurrection and the Life.

His peace,
Royce Ogle

P.S. Some of you might enjoy my new blog http://www.blueridgememories.wordpress.com

On March 2nd mom had her 86th birthday. I just learned today she will likely be in heaven before I can get from San Antonio to Asheville. She is surrounded by nieces and a nephew, folks from church, and friends, but all they can do is say a prayer and comfort each other. Mom is not conscious and has not been for much of the last few days. She is one of the last of “the greatest generation” as someone has dubbed those Americans who lived through the “Great Depression”. The last of eight siblings and the last of my family except for me, my younger brother, and his son. My father died full of faith in 1993.

Mom, like my dad, was born in Yancey County N.C. dirt poor, but from good stock. Her English/German mother and her English father were honest, hardworking folks cut from the same cloth as their parents and grandparents. Mom lived her young years, up until her early 20’s, with no running water in the house, no electricity, and a bath and a path.

When she was about a year from graduating from high school two events interrupted her plans. Her mother became bed-fast and had to be cared for day and night. And, one of mom’s brother’s young wife of 22 died with scarlet fever leaving mom with two babies in diapers to care for. Other than boiling water for cleaning and cooking on a wood stove, cooking for my grandpa and the others, rising at 3:30 a.m. to get him off to work with a meal in his belly and lunch in a bucket, working in the family garden, doing all the laundry by hand on a scrub board, she didn’t have much to do.

My dad met and married mom when she was 21 years old. I was born a bit over a year later and then my brother 18 years later. By the way mom had been totally blind for several years when my brother was born. She did all her own house work, cooking, mending dads works clothes, and teaching my little brother most of what he was expected to learn in the first grade.

Mother is a remarkable woman to say the least. She was never  a complainer, always giving grace to everyone, a giant of prayer, and a faithful follower of Jesus. She came to faith in Christ when she was about 6 or 8 years old at a Bible School. She told me she was furious that they made her wait two years before she could be baptized. She reported to me only last year that story and that not once in those many years has she ever doubted her security in Jesus.

The last words my mom spoke day before yesterday were “Papa and Mama”, her parents. And, on yesterday, at just a whisper my cousin and her nurse could make out the words “going home”. That’s my mom, on her way to that city whose builder and maker is God.

She fought the good fight, she kept the faith, and will soon see clearly once again. I could not be more proud that Vivian Ogle was my “Mama”. I have often said Daddy taught me how to die and Mama  taught me how to live. I so admire her blameless life, her quiet but consistent lifetime of prayer (with remarkable answers as a usual pattern), her devotion to my dad and me and my brother, and I expect to meet her again.

Thankfully, because of Christ, I really don’t have to say goodby to Mama, but rather “see you later”.

His peace,
Royce Ogle

About 3:10 this morning mom went home. (Wed 03/19)