When A Young Mother Dies

Recently, a young Idaho mother died of a brain tumor. She left a husband and two children behind. Mothers aren't supposed to die. Everybody knows that the main job of a mother is to be there. Mothers can't just go away and not come back. It's against the rules.

Who will know where to find the scissors and scotch tape and glue? Who will say, "Hang up your coat?" Who will keep track of the birth certificates and immunization records? Who will cook spaghetti? Who will wash if off the kids' faces? Who will clean the refrigerator when orange juice spills inside? Who will plan the birthday parties? Who will help the tooth fairy and Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny? Who will teach her children how to pray and how to pick up their toys and how to teeter-totter? Who will kiss it better? Who will love her little ones as only she can?

A story is told of five-year-old Amy, who answered the phone when her mother was out. When the caller asked for her mother, Amy responded that her mother had gone to a meeting.

"Is Brian home?"

"Yes," answered Amy.

"How about Sarah? Is she home?"

"Yes."

"And how about your Dad? Is he home?

"Yes."

" Well, then. When do you think your mom will be home?"

"I don't know. She left us here all alone."

I suppose the earth continues to spin since the young Idaho mother's untimely departure. The sun still rises and sets. But the oceans have no corner on salt water. A mother is gone, and her family is left here all alone.