February 21, 2011

The scholarship is up and running! We've submitted our application and we'll wait for the candidate to submit their completed applications now. This has been a great way for our family to grieve our loss while honoring the memory of Mom. If you're interested in contributing to the scholarship fund, you can make a check payable to the Mt. Moriah Church with "Susi Scholarship" in the memo. You can mail your checks to me (106 N. Price St. Kingwood, WV 26537) and I will see that they are taken care of. The church has agreed to work with us to allow for contributions to be tax deductible without us forming our own foundation. They have created a separate account and will take care of collecting and distributing the scholarship to the recipient(s) we select each year. Thanks to those of you who have already contributed. You've helped us quickly make this dream a reality.

In order to raise money to support our scholarship we've decided to compile a cookbook. This was something Mom wanted to do when she recovered and so I'm going to take care of this for her. Her idea was to collect recipes from those of you who cooked meals for us while she was sick. I want to extend this to all of our family and friends, so the recipes will be apart of the people who have been important in all of our lives. I'm hoping to collect at least 150 recipes, so look through your favorites and send along anything you'd be willing to share. I'm hoping to have it ready this summer, depending on the response I get, so let me know if you're willing to participate.

Dad is also wanting to organize a benefit dinner that will take place some time in August. Mom would have celebrated her 50th birthday on August 30th, so this may become a yearly event that serves as a means of supporting the scholarship and also as a reminder of the wonderful person she was. I hope to have the cookbooks ready by then, as well as have a raffle or auction of some sort. Lindsay Jenkins has already donated a coupon for teeth whitening and Tammy Light made a beautiful homemade WVU afghan for us to raffle off. We're still in the early planning phases of this endeavor and would appreciate any and all help available. Please feel free to contact me via a comment on the blog, or by email mistydmiller13@gmail.com.

February 6, 2011

It has nearly been a month since we lost Mom. I thought about her a lot today. We've been working on the application for the scholarship and it is just about ready. I have to put some finishing touches on it and then we'll send it on its way. After church today we went out to eat at Applebees. Just before we left I made a stop in the restroom. Mom and I always had this "game" we played in public restrooms--she always seemed to end up in the stall next to me and before I could finish, there would be a streamer of toilet paper come flying over the side of the stall. I would generally laugh quietly and throw a streamer back over to her. It was a game that we never talked about, but always smiled about, a special secret, just between the two of us. Anyway, I suppose today was the first time since Mom's been gone that we've eaten out and I've used the restroom and I wanted so badly to see that streamer of toilet paper come flying over the side of the stall. So there I was, tearing up in the bathroom, wishing for flying toilet paper...

The reality of her absence is setting in in small ways like this more and more each day. I haven't dried a load of laundry without cleaning out the lint filter, a chore that she nagged me incessantly about, "You're going to catch the house on fire if you don't keep the lint filter cleaned out." As I climb the stairs from the basement, I almost feel the need to say out loud, "Yes, Mom, I remembered to clean out the lint filter..." I haven't pre-heated the oven without first checking for the pots and pans she routinely stored inside, even though I know they won't be there. I believe I only look now, hoping to find the pots and pans hiding in the oven just like I longed for that toilet paper to come floating through the air today. Sometimes I call her phone, knowing she isn't going to answer, just to hear the sound of her voice on her voicemail message.

Several times a day I will catch myself thinking, "Mom would have loved to have done this," or "That's something Mom would have liked." Just yesterday I saw someone I hadn't seen for years and though, "I can't wait to tell Mom how much he's changed since the last time we saw him..." I'm not sure that these thoughts will ever disappear. And then again, I'm not sure that I want them to.

February 1, 2011

It's hard to believe that it's nearly been a month since Mom passed away. We've started the process for the Susi Miller Memorial Scholarship and have already collected over $1000! It's very exciting and I'm so proud that we'll be able to honor her memory for years to come with this scholarship. If you are interested in contributing, let me know and I'll give you all the necessary information.

As promised, here's the tribute that I read at the funeral.

My Mother loved me. She loved my brother and his wife. She really loved my Dad. She loved our dogs. She loved John Denver and John Wayne. She loved nature. She loved music. She loved stamping. She loved life. But most importantly she loved God. She lived her life in a way that radiated her love for Him with every thought and action. She was the ideal mother and wife. She taught many lessons over the years, and her actions spoke so much louder than her words. Galatians 5:22-23 read, The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control; against these things there is no law. Those were also the fruit of her spirit, as she fully embodied these characteristics.

Mom never got mad. She never complained. Even while playing out the hand she was dealt with cancer, she didn’t blame God or question Him. She fought her battle with dignity and remained courageous and strong until the end, and called for us to be strong, as well; not for ourselves, but for one another. Cancer was not a death sentence to my Mom—it was a life sentence—for all of us. She lived each and every day to it’s fullest, giving thanks to God for each and every blessing. Because of her courage and faith, everyone that knew her lived a little more in each and every day. I once read that there are just as many stars in the sky at noon as at midnight, although we cannot see them because of the sun’s light. Our lives are like this, as we often miss the radiance and beauty of something so wonderful during the good times, and it is not until times of darkness and trouble that we are able to see how God truly takes care of us. Mom saw the stars at night, and rejoiced. Then she, in turn, allowed us all to see her radiance and beauty as she shown through her darkest days.

Even after her diagnosis, she spent many hours in the room above the garage, carefully creating her cards. She diligently worked on handmade birthday and Christmas gifts for her Sunday School class. She shared her gift of song to soothe loved ones at the funeral of strangers, but also to help celebrate joyous occasions.

Music played a very important role in Mom’s life and she has passed her love of music on to us. Seldom a day went by in our house or car that the radio, cd player, or ipod wasn’t playing. And if the music was playing she was singing—even if she didn’t know the words. Every birthday, for as long as I can remember, was initiated with “Birthday” by the Beatles, not just for me, but for all of us. Even after Justin and I moved away, the phone would ring on our respective birthdays and our hello was answered by that same familiar song. Our lives had a soundtrack, every event had a song, and if she didn’t know one that fit, she made it up. Dad, Justin, and I were fortunate because we were showered with her love to an infinite degree. She packed more life into her forty-nine years than others could in five lifetimes. It almost seems unfair to the rest of you that we got to have so much of her, leaving less to share with everyone else.

She continually put the needs of others before herself. I think that’s what made her such a great wife, mother, and friend. I am sure that nothing would delight her heart more, or better honor her kind spirit, than to put into action the lessons she lived by. We should continually strive to jump at the opportunity to serve others. Aesop said, "No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted." My Mother never wasted an opportunity to show God's love and kindness to someone else. She believed that anything worth doing was worth doing well, and that she did. There is nothing I can think of that Mom couldn’t do, and in addition to doing it well, she did it joyfully. Mom was blessed with so many talents and she used them so selflessly.

My Mom is an example of what we all should strive to be. I consider it a true blessing from God to have known her and been fortunate enough to call her “Mom”. And as Dad and I decided, She was perfect, and now she is more perfect.