It’s been a couple of months since Lori’s mom, Nancy Knowles, passed into eternity. Some days it seems like it was yesterday. Yet, other times it seems much longer. I’m not sure why that is or what it means other than she is still much on our minds and still greatly missed. A great danger in grief and mourning is to become so consumed with what (or who) we have lost that we can cease living in the present, mindful of the gifts, blessings and people we still have.
This is something that Nancy would know nothing of. She was a person who lived her life in the present tense always celebrating the moments and the people in front of her. When we went back to Tennessee for the first time after she died, it was strange and hard. Though it had been only a couple weeks it might as well have been years. But someone made an interesting observation. I don’t know if it was Lori or her sister, Angie, but it was observed that when everyone was in the living room talking and laughing things didn’t seem that different.
This was because during those times, Nancy was rarely there with the rest of in the living room. She might have been in the kitchen cooking or cleaning up. But, more likely, she would have been in the other room with the grandkids reading or coloring. Or she might have been outside with them on the swings or “having an adventure” (as our boys used to call it when they were young). The point being that while the rest of us might have been zoned out looking at TV, a book, the newspaper, or the backs of our eyelids, Nancy was always right there where she loved to be–living in the present tense.
The following is what I wrote in our church newsletter shortly after she died:
Elsewhere in this newsletter is a note of thanks from Lori for your love and concern with the passing of her mom. And I certainly want to echo that. It was so great to get home to a mailbox full of cards, refrigerator filled with food, and some beautiful flowers and gifts. This is a first for us—losing a parent—and so we are unprepared for what many of you have already gone through. Many of you have walked this valley of the shadow of death and you know that it’s inexplicably difficult. It’s surely not the most difficult valley, but it’s hard. Actually that famous verse from Psalm 23 literally reads “the valley of the deepest darkness.” That’s an apt description.
There are such things as good deaths. When a saint of God passes away peacefully after long life of 80 or 85 years. Or when death finally brings peace and an end to terrible suffering or sickness and releases a loved one into the arms of Jesus. Those are still very hard, but there is a sense of things making sense. And though not one of us would question God’s sovereign will and timing, Nancy’s death does not qualify for that. It was very sudden and really unexpected.
18 years or so ago she had breast cancer, partial mastectomy and then beat the cancer. We rejoiced with every year she was cancer free. Then a few months ago, there seemed to be some cancer back though we weren’t real sure what the extent was. Initial diagnosis seemed to indicate that it had returned with a vengeance. But upon further examination it didn’t appear as bad and we thought that she would return back to being cancer free. We are not exactly sure what happened, but there must have been a tumor in the brain. She and Jim were all packed for a New England getaway when she woke up Wednesday with some symptoms of a stroke. Until then she had felt fine. She walked into the emergency room and was mostly alert all day Wednesday. Very early Thursday morning, she had a seizure and never really came out of it. By the time we arrived at the hospital at around 10:30pm on Thursday She was barely hanging on. She died around midnight. She was only 69 years old and in my opinion she died too soon.
But on that next Sunday morning our entire family filed into both services at their church took our seats and worshipped God surrounded by a grief stricken congregation. We worshipped God because we knew that Nancy was with the Lord. We worshipped God because she would have been very ticked had we stayed home. We worshipped God because He is good and worthy to be praised. We knew that in our heads even if our hearts had not yet caught up.
It would be easy for me to go on about what an extraordinary person she was. One story kind of summed it up. She would do anything for the grandkids. I actually got worn out watching her at Dollywood or the water park because she never stopped. Always doing whatever anyone else wanted to do. But one day she and my nephew were at Dollywood and rode the rollercoaster. They wanted to by the picture but they weren’t happy with the picture so they rode it again to get a better picture. That wasn’t good enough. So they rode the rollercoaster seven times in a row just to get a better picture. At the beginning of summer we are so glad that Becca got to spend two whole weeks at their house by herself. She and grandma went to Splash country twice just the two of them and went down all the water slides. What a gift.
At the funeral there were probably 6 or 7 hundred people there. There was a solid line of people for four hours to pass by the casket and grieve with the family. The line extended out the sanctuary into the gym. A worthy testimony to the kind of selfless person she was and how giving she was. It will be some time before I can refer to her in a sermon without losing it. But I’m sure I will. Because if ever there was a living sermon it was she.
One of the main scriptures used at her funeral was Proverbs 31. It’s a great passage. I have used it at various times at funerals. But when I have, it’s always been with edits. Because if you look at that long list of attributes there are so few women who possess them all. But I can tell you with all sincerity that my mother-in-law was a walking illustration of that woman described. I’m sure you think I’m exaggerating. I am not. It is a staggering loss to our family, to my wife, to Jim. And to me.
I think some are surprised that I am as grief stricken as I am (as glad as I am that she is most certainly with the Lord). Whenever I would hear a mother-in-law story or joke I would just smile because I couldn’t relate. From the first time I met her, even before Lori and were dating, she has been such a part of my life. She was so generous to me with everything—her home, her food, her love, her advice, her encouragement. And she prayed. She prayed for me, for my ministry, for our church, for our kids. She was a praying woman. Praying for me from the day I met her at Milligan when she would bake me pies and type my term papers. She prayed that Lori and I would get together way back at Milligan College in the fall of 1986. I am so glad that she was a godly, praying woman. Because her answered prayer has been her greatest gift to me.
Chris Higgins 