Remembering my Mom

Dana Christine Thompson Dugger was my mom. She was born May 20, 1924 and passed from this earth on November 5, 2014.  I learned so much from her during my lifetime.   

My mom taught me to love others.  She was always ready to give to those in need, to feed them and to encourage them.  Growing up we often had extras at the table.  The evangelist leading the revival at church, or the song leader and pastor.  Jim's running buddies from Gainesville would come for dinner, or my band director.  My mom even fed the hobos that rode the trains by our house.  I recall her giving them a sandwich, and they would eat on the back porch. She was a good cook and everyone enjoyed her food.  Mmmm, that sounds familiar!

Mom demonstrated faithfulness in serving Jesus and the church.  On Sundays you could find her in the Sunday School office, organizing the records of attendance. During VBS, she would serve in the kitchen.  When there was a death in our church, she took food to the family. She would call folks and invite them to church.  We had several widows that we took to church each week, picking them up because they didn't have a car.  She never complained, she just smiled and served enthusiastically.

Mom was patient with me.  I was not the easiest child or teenager to raise.  She didn't pass judgment when she could have, she just loved me unconditionally. That continued throughout my adult life.  She encouraged me, and loved me well.  

The family at Dad's 90th birthday in 2013.

My parents were married 62 years and they rarely argued.  If Mom got really mad then Dad would walk to the back of the field until she cooled off!  Generally she just fussed about the messes he made. They weren't known for displays of affection, but Dad would often come through the kitchen and pinch her, to which she would teasingly tell him to go away.  

Typical summer afternoon shelling peas in the living room.

My Mom had chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. She worked in an office with smokers for many years, which is probably how she acquired COPD. The last year of her life she was on oxygen, but still had trouble breathing.  Normal activities were difficult. In October she got pneumonia and was in the hospital for several days. She went home, but then went to Hopsice Haven Center in Gainesville where she passed peacefully to meet Jesus.

My last visit with her was at the Hopsice Center.  It was a sweet weekend.  Jim and Wanda had also driven down from Rome.  When mom saw Leo, Jim and I all there in the room on that Saturday morning, she said "do you think I'm going to die?"  It was unusual for us to all be together!  One of the things that we witnessed during her last days was Dad sitting by her side, holding her hand and telling her how much he loved her.  She was in and out, but always perked up when Dad came in the room. It was such a sweet picture of the covenant love they shared.  Mom had nothing to give, she was hooked up to oxygen, laying in a bed and had difficulty communicating.  Everyday, Dad couldn't wait to go see her and hold her limp hand and tell her how he loved her and wanted her to come home. It reminded me that is how God loves us.  We are sick and have nothing to give, yet he loves us completely and unconditionally. He pursues us and wants nothing more than for us to come to Him.

One of the greatest rewards of the last weekend with my mom was the music I was able to share with her. The Hospice Center had a beautiful Steinway grand piano in the community room, and I couldn't wait to play for my Mom.  When I was growing up, I would often play the piano after my parents went to bed. They told me that was one of the things they missed most when I went to college.  In the past few years they only got to hear me play when I would go to church with them and play the offertory.  Mom didn't attend church much in the past three years, but if I was there she would make the effort to go so that she could hear me play.

On that cold Saturday afternoon that I visited mom, I fed her some lunch and she then she began to doze off due to the medicines they gave to keep her comfortable.  She didn't have a lot to say, as it was difficult to talk, but when Leo asked her if she wanted to hear me play the piano, she opened her eyes, held up her finger and decisively said "YES".  I went to the piano and began to play from a favorite book of hymn arrangements.  They rolled her bed into the community room and there my Mom and Dad sat holding hands while I played.  My sister-in-law, Dee, had a hymnal and I began to play hymn after hymn. Hymns from my childhood.  Hymns I had heard my Dad sing as he went to milk the cows. Hymns I had sung holding the hymnal with my mom.  My parents clapped and tapped along as I played.   On occasion I would hear them humming or singing a phrase, such as "Love Lifted Me" or "Jesus Loves Me". It was a joyous and sweet time.  Several friends and relatives were also there that afternoon.  Being able to share the gift of music with my Mom that weekend was so special.  The truth in those hymns are what give me the strength and peace that I need to face each day.

Dad holding Mom's hand while Nancy sings.

On Sunday, I took my Dad to church and played the offertory just as I always did when I visited. Nancy Murphy, is a dear friend from the church and she approached me that morning and asked if I would like for her to come sing some hymns for Mom. Music again filled the room as Dad sang with Nancy on "Because He Lives."  I later learned that Nancy came another day and spent time with Mom. What a blessing to have Godly friends that are willing to give their time, talent and love in the darkest days.

What an honor to have learned about love and life from my Mom.  I am so glad she is no longer sick and suffering, but rejoicing with Jesus.

With the kids, December 2012