In My Garden - Of My Mother On The Occasion Of Her Funeral

Of My Mother On The Occasion Of Her Funeral

by Michael Edward Kline


I almost changed the format of the meeting to that of a testimony meeting so that all of those who wanted to say something or perform something had a chance, but Mom wanted a few things to happen today. She wanted music. With the help of Sister Carty and the Grandchildren and Rodney and Jon, we are doing that.

She wanted her family to be part of the program, and we are doing that.

Most of all, she wanted all of us to know how much she loved us. She wanted each of her grandchildren to remember their special bonds and moments, to know that she loved and cared for each one of them as individuals. There's an even dozen of them, like Easter eggs in a carton, colored and decorated by their own styles and experiences, each as precious as the Cartier jewels that she felt they are. She knew of their talents and problems and she wanted to do so much for each one. She cuddled each one until they were old enough to stand on their own. She spoke to each one of them about their dreams and hers. They all know something special about her that she shared only with them. And she knew a lot about each ones hopes and desires.

Her ten children, 5 boys and 5 girls were her cherished ones. She was a terrible image as a mother-in-law because she wasn't one. Each son's wife became her daughter, sharing an openness and love matched only by their own mother. Her daughters brought home new sons to bless the house and become part of her love. Tim and John hold places in her heart as dear as my own. Christine, Cindy and Edith were her girls as if from birth. Her love for these made only stronger her love for those whom she had born. We all have these moments so special and dear. In the last few days we have shared some of these with each other and refreshed the spirits by the joy that each one recalls. Mother had a gift of insight and understanding that let her see when something little and insignificant to the world would mean the world to us. From special words and nicknames to daring feats, she did so many that we can not share them all. She held all night vigils for sick children or sat with them at rain soaked campsites or made overnight trips to San Francisco and back with a young pregnant daughter. She shared her love of the scriptures and good books, reading to us all and giving us a chance to set worthy goals as we sat around her knees.

She loved her brothers and sisters and felt their joys as her own and their anguish and sorrows too. She shared stories with us of BB guns and bottled beets and carriages on muddy streets. She held their hands and touched their hearts, keeping pace with each of them along their way, listening to them and laughing with them and crying for them as they shared with her this love.

More than anyone, she wanted her companion, friend and husband to know how much she loved him and thanked God for him every day. He truly broke the shackles of a dismal and lonely future when he came into her life and took up the yoke with her to pull us through this world. For forty-four years, they have toiled together, planting flowers and ideas around the world. Their vines run long and bind us to them forever. Mother often spoke of how right it was for them to have found each other. She spoke often of the conversations with Grandma Rilla Belle Kline who said that the Lord was just putting together what should have been from the start. Her capacity to love was nourished by his willingness to synchronize their hearts and desires. Together they formed a bedrock anchor to which all of us look. Many of you know about the constant moving Mom and Dad did for the first eight years, but here was always home. All of their children have moved around the world and back, but Mom and Dad's house has always been a place of rest. Never mind the noise or the crowd, we always feel that we are safe to lay down our worries and fears and rest here.

Mother was connected with the things happening to the world in special ways. Her talents for expression have been passed on to her children and grandchildren. The music and poetry have flowed through to all of us.