My Mother

This evening I got to speak with my Christian brother and friend, Nicky...

I called Nicky to encourage him and pray with him as he struggles to cope with the loss of his beloved wife, Ellen. I shared about her death in my journal entry for March 5th.

Reflecting on Ellen's passing, however, has caused me to think a lot about my mother, Pearl, and how much I love and miss her, and how I long to see her again.

​I was fourteen when my mother died from cancer in 1967. Although she left this earth thirty-six years ago, I miss her tremendously. Not a day goes by that I do not think of her.

​I had a great Mother. But I was too immature, and I had to many inner struggles and emotional problems back then to really get close to people, even to my own parents.

​I was a moody and aloof child. I had caused my parents much grief by the way I had misbehaved, and by the way I treated them. I regret this so much.

But now that I was finally able to grow up--and this was when I was already in prison--I have been able to see, understand, and deeply appreciate the wonderful worth of my parents and the depth of their love for me.

My Mother was a priceless treasure.
 
D. B.