opening ourselves with the hinging daylight hours

Friday, October 15, 2010


Mother, sister, Dot, Dart, Grandmother , Mrs. Ferich

"Why We Love Her” written by my Uncle Vaughn

Anyone who ever met her, learned to love her sweet disposition, her kindness and her warm smile, her patience and her honesty. She rarely became angry and always found the goodness in other people. We love her devotion to her loved ones and her devotion to her beliefs. We love the way she filled our house with music, whether she was standing by the sink humming a tune or sitting in front of the old pump organ singing a hymn. We love the way she took care of us and watched over us day and night; she always knew what to do to make us feel better and she was always by our side when we needed her. She was a gifted teacher, both at home and at church with the children. We believe she inspired us all to be better people by the way she lived her life. It didn’t take long to recognize her deep devotion to the teachings of Jesus and how well she lived her life in accordance to his teachings. Most of all, she has a heart full of love and an amazing ability to forgive.

She always taught us that Heaven was a beautiful place of Perfect Peace, where someday we would all be together for eternity. She said that when death takes a loved one, we should be happy for them, because that person was in Heaven with their loved ones and with Jesus. We know that’s where she is now, singing in the Heavenly Choir and watching over us all. Mother, we love you and await the day we will all be together again.

In Loving Memory of Our Mother,

Dorothy Marie Ferich

December 4th, 1917 - October 13, 2010

Two weeks ago On a rainy October day I went with my brother to go and visit Grandmother in the hospital.

I rubbed her feet and rubbed her head the way that she liked it, and watched her drift in and out of sleep , and even listened to her talking in her sleep.

What were you dreaming about Grandmother?

"I was talking to Jesus, I saw how good people are. People are sooooo good."

Thanks for everything you've taught us Grandmother. Now I teach the children to sit tall behind their desks or behind the piano. Her eyes close again and her hands stop shaking, and she begins talking in her sleep and wakes again, " I just saw everything, mountains, the sea, and the sky."

She's been painting lately shades of blue and purple. colors of lent, the sunsetting, the sea at night, and the mountains, she says. Holy colors, colors of lent, grandmother's colors.

I hold up my hand and ask her, "Grandmother do you remember when your hands looked like this? "Oh yes," she says with her sweet sing song laughter. SHe moves her weak thin hands to touch my own. "It's amazing that's it's been the same hands all these years" she says. I imagine The same hands playing the piano, holding little children, bandaging every hurt knee, holding hands to jump the waves, teaching hands to tie shoes, sewing so many hems, and waving goodnight by your stormdoor as we walk home.

Grandmother you are free now, free like a beautiful bird singing and coming to visit and flying across the sky .

And written by my father:


One time when I was little, I asked Mother why some bad kids

always got the good toys. She said, "The rain falls on the just and

the unjust."

When I asked why we had to die she said, "The Lord gives, and the

Lord takes away."

She said if somebody hit me on one cheek, I should bravely, "Turn

your head and let them hit your other cheek." Mother lived her faith.

As you probably do, I have always been thankful that God gave me

the mother He did. I have never wished some other woman had been my


I take it as a God-given right to declare my mother a hero among

women. I hope you do the same with your mother.

And if you do, remember that heroes not only have the whole earth

for their tomb, but heroes also live, work and play in the lives of

all the best men and women forever.

1 comment:

Vincent said...

How beautiful. You are so graced to have had such a nonna among you. Thank you for this reflection.