A Mother's Mantle

My mother died this past January. She was 91. It's a long story and one I'll be working with over the weeks and months to come. But here's what I believe today: when a mother dies, her mantle is passed to one of her children (usually a daughter). Although some might fear this mantle would also carry all those negative, painful things... but that's not what I'm talking about here. Nope. This mantle, more like the multi-colored robe that was given to Joseph, carries the hopes and dreams of the giver and the generations of mothers before her. It's an inheritance. And that is what I feel is upon me, embracing me. Not unlike a treasured ring or other beloved object, but this is more in the supernatural: along with the heart of the mother, it carries the plans that God had for her. The call (see Keeping True...)on her life and perhaps even the call on my grandmother who died when my mother was only a teen or my great grandmother who worked in servitude on an German estate in Lithuania. I sense a walking out of some of these dreams in my generation... in me. It's a time of fulfilling. And I am in awe of the power of it. And what's even more important... I accept this mantle today.