My mom died today. She would have been 90 on Dec. 10. Her death was not unexpected and was peaceful.
She was the U.S. born child of refugees from the Armenian genocide of WW I. Grew up in Providence, RI and married my dad, who was an orphan from the Ozarks ("sorta near this, sorta near that") in NW Arkansas. Like so many after WW II they settled in Los Angeles and that's where the four kids, including this one, were born.
My main thanksgiving is for her dutiful reading from a children's Bible at our dining room table (much worse for wear, I have that table with me here in Sioux Falls). She's the one who fixed the Bible's narrative of salvation in my heart and mind, and she's the one from whom I learned to pray daily.
I take my best organizational qualities and passion from her. Also tendencies to be mercurial and harsh.
Rest eternal grant her, O Lord, and let light perpetual shine upon her.
I'll be away from blogging for awhile.