Eulogy for Lena Mae Brewer, My Mother
II Corinthians 5:1
by Pastor
The clock of life is wound but once
And no one has the power to tell
Just when the clock will stop
At a late or early hour
Now is the only time you own
Live, love, toil with a will
Place no faith in tomorow
For the clock may then be still
We cannot see, we cannot know
The meaning of it all
Just why the road must winding be
Or why the tears must fall
But face to face one day with God
In Heaven's glorious land
The darkened glass will be removed
And then we will understand
The earthly tent that mom lived in has been destroyed.
In the Bible, "tent" reminds us of Israel's wilderness experience. For 40 years Israel lived in tents. Israel was not allowed to settle down and establish roots. She was always on the move. The address was not fixed and her homes never were secured on foundations.
We live in an "earthly tent." Our roots are not permanent. Mom told us, "Life is short. Enjoy your life now." She was the glue that held our stuggling family together.
None of us are permanent residents on earth. No building, no amount of money, status, no power can make us happy.
Mom and dad lived fairly long years, living more than the biblical three score and ten years. All our years are nothing as measured by eternity.
Life is precious. We all fight to live. Beneath the surface of what we say we want: health, wealth, love--we really desire moments of joy and to be happy. Mom's son Edward gave his life to be a physician saving many lives to live more years. David fulfilled his goals in business by leading and advising hospitals and their finances and resources to save many lives. My life has been "a minister of joy to the world" preaching Christ causing people to choose the things that give them joy, happiness, and everlasting life.
The things that brought mother her joy were not status, money, or power. She loved her children. And because of her love for her three boys, can you find any fathers who love their children and grandchildren more than we do? Mom's greatest joys in life were getting pictures of her grandkids and great grandkids, and what joy came when she could be surrounded by family whenever she could be with them.
Mother never drove a car. She completed eighth grade in school. She never had much money, power, or status in life. Mom got up early to put breakfast on the table. She washed and dressed her children. She made sure her sons did not forget their books or anything needed for school. Perhaps she had a cup of coffee to start her day. Although we did not dress in rich kids' clothes, we were the cleanest kids in school. She cleaned her home immaculately every day. She performed much physical labor: cleaning, and ironing our clothing, fixing meals, rarely going out to shop, or to giggle with a girlfriend, or to escape home to do a workplace job.
Mom encouraged us to get "all the learning you can at school." She was the oldest of ten children. Born in Mendota, Virginia, she grew up laboring and caring for her brothers and sisters, wearing clothing taken from the trash rich girls from Virginia Intermont and Sullins Colleges had thorn away or dresses made from flour sacks. She sacrificed her ambitions for her sons and her husband.
She secretly wanted to finish school. She talked about getting a degree in home economics. Taking care of the home was her purpose in life. I know that God has said, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant," as she entered eternal life in heaven.
Ed and David, mom cherished us. Let's now switch away from the financial poverty and fears our mother faced, and look at the riches of the family she loves. Brothers, we were given everything we need to be happy. Happiness cannot be earned, traveled to, owned, worn, or consumed. Happiness is that spiritual experience of living every moment with love, grace, and gratitude. Mother was so proud of here grandchildren: Linda and Joseph, Rachel, Amy, John and Holly and Wendy. Now her great grandkids have entered life's journey with the same appreciation and love that we found in life.
Whenever Ed, David, and I talk of good eats, we think of mom's cooking. Things like October or cranberry beans, cornbread, greens, fried oysters, fish from South Holston Lake, chocolate and coconut pies, chicken and dumplins and rolls and sweet tea. Mom managed well her resources for food, shelter, and clothing. I can recall her trips to downtown Bristol walking with us, riding in a stoller, or riding the city bus. She looked long and hard fior bargains. Once she bought Ed a suit for three dollars at Parks-Belk and he wore it proudly. We saw movies for nine cents admission for children, fifteen cents for adults.
Mom with dad encouraged our dreams. Mom wanted us to be happy, however we chose to serve the world. We saved, we studied, we prepared for college and our callings. With joy, I recall helping Dad build a garage for Joe Bayless on Edgemont Avenue. Dad gave all the money we made to me for college. Mom was pleased. She was happy that her three boys graduated with honors, earning graduate degrees in medicone, business administration, counseling, and ministry.
Mother was there for each graduation. I pray, my brothers and my children and grandchildren feel as good about themselves as mom felt about the lives of each one of you. Her family was her happiness.
She enjoyed Christmas. The family celebrations which brought all of you together saw her hands working in the kitchen making all those festive meals we so enjoyed. She hated our distancing from her with our family obligations, work, and the busyness of our lives. She enjoyed sharing our family scapbooks and pictures that helped her catch up on our lives. And we enjoyed looking at those many well-organized scapbooks and photos of our childhood years.
As a teen-aged mother, she bore me at Holston Valley Hospital in Kingsport. I got my birthing records from that hospital a few years ago. I found that she spent a week in the hospital, and that mom and dad paid the whole hospital bill by saving pennies in a jar. They lived in a tiny apartment. The room was twelve dollars a month. Life was very difficult. We moved to Bristol and lived across from Woodlawn Baptist Church in an apartment located up over Dink Amoren's grocery store.
Church was our social, physical, and spiritual life. My aunt Estelle took me to Sunday School. Estelle was mom's best friend. Dad went to World War II serving in the Pacific Theater. Mother tended the fires at home. She loved Eddie and David and me. When David was born, we cherished him and mom had another little boy to love.
Mother taught that money can't buy happiness. Getting beyond the poverty level was a struggle. All members of her immediate family are now dead . . . all her brothers and sisters. As Dr. Ed would know much better than me, her fears kept mom from choosing love, optimism, and purpose in life. But perfect lover overcomes fear as mom passes on to the next life. So we should not be sad for her, but rejoice with her in what has transpired. She has tranquility and peace and happiness as she cross the bar.
Not long ago, mom said she "died" at Bristol Regional Medical Center. I don't know how to interpret out of body or the experience of seeing a light to the next life. Mom said she saw a light. She said she felt peace, joy, and happiness. "Jimmy, it was wonderful," she told me.
I pray we gather more often as a family. In one sense, all of us will have our mother and grandmother and great grandmother with us more after she is gone than we have had in recent days. Her loving spirit will always be close, and the slightest thing will trigger a memory, a smile, and even your speaking with her.
Someday the journey of every person here will end. Someday "the earthly tent we live in is destroyed." And all of us can say with mom, "All these good things will go with me. They will make my spirit glow, and that light will shine forever in the next place that I go."
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