A Mother's Love and the Gift of More Time
Honoring Her with Love and Purpose I should have had this epiphany some time ago. But, instead, it came to me last night as I was dropping off to sleep. I turn 60 years old this summer. My mom, JoAnn Drinkwater Young, died at the age of 61 in 1997. When she was my age, she was already carrying the colon cancer that would kill her. Shortly after her death, I filled a glass bowl full of translucent blue glass marbles. Each marble represented a week in my life should I only live to be 61. I intended it to remind me to live my life joyfully, lovingly, and with purpose. On a regular basis, I have thrown a handful of marbles into my garden representing the lapse of those weeks. Until this morning, I had about 120 marbles left in that bowl. Just now, I threw all but one of the remaining marbles into my colorful spring garden. The last one I put in my "treasure box." Every week I live beyond age 61 is a gift, in m...