AMY RODGERS VENTER
(The following selection is from a post to Facebook, 2013)
A few years ago, I started a speech off like this: Today I want to talk to you about my mom, Amy Rodgers Venter, and how her death affected me. Oh, I’m not talking about the pain, the agony, the defeat. I’m talking about how it affected ME. Suddenly I was a 60 year old orphan who was the matriarch of the family, supposed to know everything like “Amy, how many cows did the Jackson’s have when we sold that ole bull to them back in ‘48?” I was an abject failure in the “know everything that counts” arena – no college degrees really matter! No way can I tell you how to cut and frame a window in a house, how many newspapers I need to scrounge in order to paper over the bad spots in the wall, how to can tomatoes, how to set a fence post in a garden plot, how to sew a wedding dress, how to crochet a baby blanket, how to cook noodles, how to install a threshold, and on and on. Things that matter. Things that help your kids live, love, and laugh.
But if anyone asked me now the most important thing she taught me, I would answer, “She taught me how to die.”
Mom, watching you that morning as you were moved out of your home without even a look around at all the things you had build, decorated, and valued. Like shedding layer one of your earthly garments. The days in the hospital bed, the ravages of cancer changing your body, taking away all privacy, but you had already shed that garment too. People were still important. Most days you wanted to know who had visited, but that garment was being shed also.
I wasn’t there at the end because I had been up with you all night. Those who were, told me this story:
Becoming conscious after about eight hours of being put out by pain medication, you came to and while striking your hand through the air, you said, “Forgiven, forgiven, forgiven, and all because of the blood.” Nothing else mattered at the end—just Jesus and his blood. Knowing I am forgiven by his blood – That is knowing how to die. Thank you, Mom; Thank you, Jesus.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
About oneta hayes
ABOUT ME
Hello. To various folks I am Neat’nee, Mom, Grandma Neta, Gramma, Aunt Neta, Aunt Noni, Aunt Neno, and Aunt Neto (lots of varieties from little nieces and nephews). To some I’m more like “Didn’t you used to be my teacher?” or “Don’t I know you from someplace?” To you, perhaps, I am a Fellow Blogger. Not “fellow” like a male or a guy, but “fellow” like a companion or an adventurer. I would choose to be Grandma Blogger, and have you pull up a chair, my website before you, while I tell you of some days of yore. I have experienced life much differently than most of you. It was and is a good life. I hope to share nuggets of appreciation for those who have gone before me and those who come after me. By necessity you are among those who come after me and I will tell you of those who came before. Once upon a time in a little house on a prairie - oops, change that lest I commit plagiarism - and change that “house on the prairie” to “dugout on the prairie.” So my story begins...
So many blessings to you ❤❤❤❤
Thank you so much. 😀
Beautiful ❤️❤️😀❤️
Thank you.
truly beautiful Oneta
Thank you, Julie. Lovely remembrance she left us; a bid toward Heaven
Dying well is so important and many of us avoid discussing it, great post!
If it is indeed another step into eternal life, it rates a high priority. And we do try to avoid planning for death no matter our philosophy regarding such. There have been few men who argue that it won’t happen. A few have – but they are dead now! 😀
lol sounds like a fitting end to that argument 🙂
😀
Thank you!. Not fearing death was the legacy I was given by both my parents. Thank God for their ‘little’ faith and their overwhelming certainty that DIVINE LOVE covered life, death and eternity. (yet in ‘uncertainty’ they always pointed the way to Christ and the cross.).
Your post is beautiful and faith such a STRENGTH and Hope to all who follow. Nothing but the blood of Christ….Forgiveness. What a legacy!
And available to all. The rankest of evil to be best of good men, all need forgiveness. We stand before God, forgiven or unforgiven, according to our own decisions. Thanks, Faye.
Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven. The sweetest words ever.
Nothing else counts in the end. We will all be welcomed – or not – according to what we do about Jesus. Thanks, Roo.
I would like to think my faith will shine through like that at the end and I will just go peacefully into Jesus’s arms. But something tells me he’ll have to drag me out kicking and screaming… Sigh…
I understand that! 😀
Very touching. My original reason for starting my blog was to deal with the death of my husband, but it very quickly turned to a consideration of life. Writing is such a good way to deal with both.
Thank you very much for reading and commenting. I’m not writing much (not much reading either) because of family matters but I will love getting back in the swing of things in a few days. Will come visiting. I think I marked a follow already, but will double check.