“The past is not dead; in fact, it’s not even past.” (Faulkner)
In this series, we’re delving into the soil of my mother, Ellen’s, life, searching for the key to her peaceful and victorious death.
Ellen, a city girl, was new to farm life. As she went about her daily chores, she became increasingly aware of the vulnerabilities involved in making a living on a small farm (present-day Country Dairy). A windstorm that destroyed Henry’s cherry crop was her first clue that their livelihood was totally dependent on the weather.
It was then, when her faith was severely tested, that her Lord found her, and she began to walk and talk with Him “in the gardens” of her life. (Oceana Echo - Oct. 3, 2025)
“…be Thou my strong Rock for a house of defense to save me.” Psalm 31:2
In 1937, their first child was born, the first of seven children to grace their home. With child-rearing, the duties of planting, nurturing and harvesting took on new meaning. Children made life busier, but as we grew, my brothers helped Henry with the farmwork, and we, girls, worked alongside Ellen, clearing the table, picking vegetables, doing dishes, ironing and changing bedding.
We imbibed scripture and prayer along with our food at every meal, attended church on Sundays and catechism during the week. Our mother encouraged us to read, go to college and pursue meaningful careers – to spread our wings and fly. And, then, before they knew it, the nest was empty.
As with most families, there were joys and sorrows, highs and lows, successes and disappointments, and though Ellen, a capable, intelligent, diligent woman, was learning that she couldn’t control or fix every situation, nothing could have prepared her for the tragic death of her daughter, my sister, at the prime of her life.
Parents never expect their children to die before they do. It isn’t natural. We were all in shock at the news, but my mother was stunned beyond belief. For a mother to lose a child carried in the womb and nursed at her breast, the pain is excruciating – a deep, gaping wound. As she struggled to comprehend the unthinkable, her spirit sagged and slowly ebbed away. She appeared dazed and lifeless. Finally, paralyzed by grief, she withdrew to her bedroom.
“The king was much moved and went up to his chamber and wept: ‘Oh my son, my son! Would that I died for thee, my son.’” (I Samuel 18:33)
An eerie hush descended on our home. We were grieving my sister; now we worried about my mother. My father guarded her privacy, but once, when he was leaving her room, I happened to pass by. My mother lay in a fetal position, facing the windows, the bedspread covering her like a shroud.
My family made funeral plans. We didn’t expect my mother to attend, but suddenly, on the third day, there she was! We were startled, even a bit frightened.
A noticeable peace and serenity emanated from her. She began doing household chores with a calm, almost detached manner. She attended the visitation and funeral, and carried herself with grace and graciousness, giving my sister’s life the dignity and respect it deserved.
As I reflected on this defining moment in my mother’s life, I imagined what took place during those three days she cloistered in her room – in the cleft of the Rock:
“For as Jonah was three days and nights in the belly of a whale, so the Son of Man will be three days and nights in the heart of the earth.” (Matthew 12:40)
“Ellen.” The voice is kind and gentle.
“My Lord…” her voice, barely a whisper, “my precious daughter…”
We can only imagine the ensuing conversation as Ellen struggled to accept the unacceptable; to accept God’s will instead of her own.
“He withdrew from them, knelt, and prayed, 'Father, if it be Your will, take this cup from me; nevertheless, not my will, but Thine be done.” (Luke 22: 41, 42)
My mother was never the same after her daughter’s passing; she carried her grief to her death, yet serenity and a surreal sense of peace marked her personality from that time on.
“And the angel answered and said unto the women, ‘Fear not, for I know that you seek Jesus…He is not here, for He is risen, as He said.’” (Matthew 28:5,6)
