Sunset

“Lord, thou hast been our dwelling place in all generations” (Psalms 90:1).

In my dream, the sun slipped below the horizon, leaving an orange glow in the darkening sky. The next evening, the sunset sky awed Laurence and me as we walked by the sea. Never seeing a sunset from an apartment window means that the recent sunset views from Gates Pass and Mt. Lemmon in Arizona imprinted themselves in my mind. They were so beautiful.

For Laurence’s mother the sun has set. Once, as I returned from a walk in Pack Park in Moundridge, I saw Mom holding open the door of their home, she asked me, “Did you see the sky?”  Mom took note of beauty, and from her, I learned the names of the wildflowers alongside the narrow mountain roads of Northern Idaho. She saw the birds, the trees, the flowers, and she could find the wild huckleberries.

I loved my mother-in-law and appreciate her gentleness with me – how she easily conversed about little things, telling me the details of her bread recipe, and that she liked the rolls to be nicely browned. (Cookies too so I try to be a good wife and bake these things the proper length of time though it’s not how I was raised.)

Mom was kind and gracious, a lover of hospitality and of song. I enjoy hearing the stories of her childhood, of her parents, and how her and Dad came together in marriage. Today, I see her grandchildren serving the Lord, and I get to hold her great-grandchildren. As the sun has set on Mom’s life, the family can say, “The Lord has been our dwelling place in all generations.” This comforts me. Berniece