For years, whenever I've thought about Mum and her love for us, I've found myself thinking about Mary and Martha. One of the many layers of this story is simply that both sisters sought to show their love for Jesus, and that Mary did so more perfectly. As we remember, Jesus says about Mary "She has chosen the better part, and it shall not be taken from her."
As Christians, we often emphasize that love is an action, as opposed to a feeling. And that's true—love is an action. But on the very deepest level, we believe that love is a Person. God is love. And while He expresses His love for us constantly through actions, the most essential way He loves us is in His being—that is, by being present with us in every moment of our lives. Although we do imitate God's love when we perform acts of service, we do so most purely when we stop and take time to be present for those God has given us to love. This was Mary's love for Jesus, and it's also what I remember most vividly in Mum's love for us, her children.
The story Rachel told about planting tulips captures it perfectly. My guess is that there were a couple (likely more than a couple) weeds in the yard that day that could have used pulling, and probably some clutter on the end of the kitchen table (or maybe on the counter next to the phone). But knowing Mum, those things were not anywhere in her mind as she knelt on the grass next to Rachel. For her that moment transcended weeds and clutter and worry, and consisted only of the joy her child gave her, and the love she was making present to her child.
Jesus recognized something imperfect in Martha's love—that it had lost its focus on the beloved. Even the love of a mother for her child can be warped, very subtly, as when real concern for the child's safety becomes overbearing strictness, genuine warmth becomes smothering, or normal emotional expression becomes self-serving drama. Bethany recently said something that stuck with me. She was talking about Mum's presence in the family, using words like “quiet" and "patient." She then said that Mum was never "too much" of anything—meaning that in raising us she avoided the kinds of excesses I just described. Today we have lost the ancient principle of the Golden Mean, that the most virtuous behavior always avoids extremes, rather than pursues them. Mum's love for us was even-keeled, and so much the better for it.
Mary's love is also purer than Martha’s because it's entirely focused on a person, and not distracted by things. Mum was like this as well. Anyone who knew her will tell you that it was almost impossible to get her to care about things—even pretty important things. One very early memory I have is from when Jeff and I were little, and the girls hadn't come along yet. We were all at the beach in Maine, and Mum lost her wedding ring when she was in the water, jumping in the waves with the two of us. Years later, when she shared the story with my wife Nancy, Mum related how losing the ring wasn't a big deal, that she simply hadn't been paying attention. She said, with a characteristic grin, "I had my two little boys with me—I just wanted to play with them."
Almost 50 years later, those two boys (not so little any more), along with two girls (both adults and mothers by now) sat around Mum's bed as she drew her last few breaths on Earth. We know, of course, that this was not the end of her life of love, but rather the beginning of it in its fullness. The love exemplified by Mary, and lived by Mum throughout her earthly life, is nothing less than practice for Heaven. Martha's love, necessary as it is here on Earth, is no longer needed there. In the fully realized kingdom of God, there are no needs or even wants for us to fulfill for each other. We will be united with the One who is Love, or as C.S. Lewis puts it, we will literally be "in Love". I believe Mum is well on her way to this blessed goal. She truly chose the better part, and it shall not be taken from her.