Dispatches from Home – Camellias and an Old Rocker.

Mom, five years ago today, as I held your warm, frail hand, you slipped from this life into eternity. Each time I see the old camelia bush in the backyard awash with pink blossoms, I think of you. Whenever I sit in your old rocker by the window, I think of you. When I see your worn red Bible on the shelve, I think of you. And in the night and the silence of our old house, I hear you whisper, “I love you.”

I miss you so much, but I’m thankful you are Home! No more pain. No more tears. Home. Each anniversary of your passing brings me closer to the joyous day when you, Daddy, Granny, and so many others will meet me at the Gate. We’ll see Jesus and walk with Him on the beaches of Heaven, picking up seashells like we did long ago.

All my love, your only child, Andy.

(Originally posted February 22, 2025)