Trying to describe my mother, her life, and the impact she had on nearly every person she ever encountered would be an impossible task. She was, as improbable as it sounds in this world today, a good and kind person.

I could tell you endless stories. I could show you quilts and homespun yarn. Walk you through the nursery school she opened. I could have the countless parents she guided in her work with Healthy Families share how helped raise generations of happy kids. Rambling for days would not begin to scratch the surface of the accomplishments of this small woman who could not take a step without pain.

There is a hole in Crisfield now. Perhaps the world. Our mailman was on the porch crying in my father’s arms yesterday. The parents she worked with are heartbroken. Even in our present sorrow, my father and I are following my mother’s example. Comforting rather than seeking any condolences for ourselves.

It would be easy for us to surrender to grief. To mourn the loss until her good work is simply a memory. That is not, I believe, what she would have wanted. Instead, my father and I will strive to continue following her example. To love fearlessly and give without thought to the cost. To see beauty in everything, and goodness in everyone.

If you want to remember my mom, bake some cranberry orange bread. Share it with a neighbor this weekend. Tear down whatever fences or barriers you have built to keep people away, and open your heart. 

I will love you forever, mom. You are the best person I have ever known. It is an honor to be your son. Thank you for everything. No goodbyes because you are with me always, but I will miss walking beside you. My mother, my teacher, my friend.