Legacy of a Godly Family

Legacy of a Godly Family
By Angela L Jackson
Better know as "mama", Louise Horn was that and so much more to
everyone who knew her. Even though mama was a diabetic with congestive
heart failure, and only one breast because of cancer, we depended on
her much more than we probably should have. "We" included seven
children, thirteen grandchildren, two great-grandchildren, four
surviving sisters, and a numerous amount of nephews and nieces. Her
extended family, the church, depended on her just as much. Mama was the
tie that kept our family together. She was our guilty conscience when
we were out of church, and the rock we leaned on in time of trouble. At
67 years old, she was the only one who could remember all of the
countless birthdays, anniversaries, or special events for some thirty
plus family members, plus remember church events as well. She was a
prayer warrior for everyone. All who had ever met her depended on her
prayers. If you were around her for any length of time, you knew that
you were prayed for, and didn't have to wonder. Sometimes it was on the
phone with us, in her room alone, or just wherever she might happen to
be. It was her nature to pray. She and God shared an awesome closeness
that we all envied at times. She also held many positions in the
church, and was counted on in many ways. But what we all remember most,
I think, was her place in the choir, or her regular pew where she sat
each service, and the hand raised in victorious praise that always
clutched a used kleenex. But mama loved being needed by her family, and
we were her life much more than we could know, until the events
surrounding her passing brought us all to the full realization of just
how powerful her testimony was and just how closely she walked with
Jesus. Mama's family extended way (Continued) pAGE 1beyond her family
and husband of almost 52 years. But the unique way she touched each
life during her stay here was the one commonwealth we all shared. My
husband especially, who at the time was a good man, but he was not
saved. Her death changed him dramatically as you will see.
Mama also loved to sing with her family, but when declining health
didn't allow her to anymore, she was just content to sit and listen to
us. And she did that every chance she had. She even requested we sing
"Jesus is Keeping Watch Over my Soul" in her hospital room!
I feel it pervious to mention her love for angels. She believed
strongly in their power and purpose to God's children, and always
prayed for their guardianship over us. At home, she was surrounded by
them in all shapes and sizes. Walls, bedside tables, appliances, and
anything else that could be decorated with them were. She kept her
largest collection on her piano. She kept ever so many angel magazines,
and "Angels on Earth" stayed close by her bedside during her entire
hospital stay. She read it avidly and kept an ongoing subscription to
it, giving gift subscriptions at christmas to her secret sisters.
But now, she was in a room of white, the only decor being endless
machines, a clock, and the life support unit that allowed us to be with
her just a little longer. She had been transported from our small
hometown hospital in Rutherfordton, NC, to Charlotte, NC for emergency
heart surgery to unblock her arteries after a failed heart
catherization. The procedure didn't go as we had hoped. The attending
physician told us that her heart was too weak for bypass surgery. They
had inserted a balloon and put her on life support. She was going to
die. We were all shocked by what we had just (cont.) page 2
heard. This was not supposed to be happening. What was supposed to have
been a simple procedure for her, had turned into a terrible nightmare
and a decision that none of us wanted to make.
Daddy's declining emphysema forced him to return home to rest until he
felt well enough to travel the hour or so it took to get here. I'm sure
had he known how it would turn out, he would have come to begin with.
So, we decided it best to leave her on life support until the next
morning when someone could bring Daddy to Charlotte. It was very late,
and we were very exhausted.
When we were allowed to see her, I was one of the first to go up. I
was speechless at what I saw. She lay on a white steel gurney, her nose
and mouth invaded by tubes. She was uncovered because of fever. I
thought to myself, "She always did like a little something over her
legs." How she hated those legs. They were usually swollen and covered
with varicose veins, as they were now. I was glad she wasn't aware
enough to know her legs were uncovered.
As I moved closer to her, the male nurse assigned to her, told me not
to touch her, as she had been agitated, and he didn't want to upset her
further. He spoke with such a rude tone. But I ignored him, I knew she
was just scared, not agitated. I prayed then for a guardian angel to
come to her and ease her fears. I knew she would have done it for
me.
Two of my sisters, a brother and sister in law stayed through the
night. The rest of us drove back home to rest. I worried and fretted
over her through the night, because I felt her nurse had been
thoughtless and uncaring. He had even told us that she was so sedated,
she couldn't hear us if we spoke. Coldly, he had told us not to
get
too close, only to touch her right hand, and not to speak to her
because he felt it would agitate her further. I knew he saw this kind
of thing everyday, and comfort and reassurance was just not his cup of
tea. I actually had considered reporting him to his superiors, but I
was wrong to worry, and I was wrong to be angry.
Upon my return the following morning, I was told that this nurse had
had a sudden change of heart. No longer was he this meticulous,
no-frills night nurse. My sister explained to me that he had been in
tears that morning as he related to them just how hard he had tried to
keep her alive. I knew then that my prayer had been answered. Her
angels HAD attended! And so had God! I should have known. Obviously,
their presence and her prayers had filled the room, and he had been in
the line of fire! I was dumbfounded.
Sometime later that morning, Daddy arrived, still bleary-eyed and
tired. I knew he hadn't slept much, and my heart went out to him, but I
couldn't do anything about what he was about to face. None of us were
ready to go, especially him, but still, a decision had to be made. Her
condition hadn't improved any, but we knew it probably wouldn't.
Daddy instructed the doctor to wait until we had all spent some time
with her before turning off the machines.
They had decreased her pain medication just enough for her to be a
little more alert, so we began one by one to spend our last moments
alone with her. There were a lot of us there, at least 26 people, so we
knew it would take some time. Even our preacher had been with us most
of the time. He thought a lot of mama. He had even given our large
family use of the church van so that we wouldn't have to use so many
cars. He had also made two trips to Charlotte. I felt it was way beyond
his call of duty, (cont.) page 4

but I always knew how he felt about her, and his heart was breaking
just as much as ours were.
Head nods and hand squeezes were all she could manage, but it was the
most communication we had had with her in the last twenty four hours,
and it was a bittersweet victory for us.
When my turn came, more than anything I wanted to know if her angels
had attended. I already knew the answer, but somehow I needed her to
let me know for sure. She nodded her head slightly and squeezed my
hand. YES! They had been, and were still here! Suddenly, their presence
in the room was so sweet and powerful, I could almost feel the brush of
their wings. Somehow, I knew it was more than I had asked for. The room
was heavy with God's spirit and many, many angels. My heart was
overwhelmed with sadness and gladness. I leaned down and whispered to
her that I loved her. There it was again! That slight nod of the head.
Her eyes struggled against the dark, and lost. She would not open them
in this world again. But I knew she heard me, she loved me, and most of
all, that she wasn't scared anymore. The only thing I knew how to do
was cry.
Finally, the inevitable came as, one by one, we finished our goodbyes.
The arrival of the doctor shut the door, and then all she had was God
and the angels. I smiled then, as that thought crossed my mind.
About forty five minuets later, the door was opened again, and we were
all allowed to fill in around her bedside. At that time, there were
twenty seven us there.
She was already comatose, and couldn't hear us anymore or so they said.
I remembered that somewhere during that time, my husband knelt down at
her bed- (Cont.) page 5
side, took her hand, and cried. He told me later that he had
experienced something then that he couldn't explain, but he had had a
strong urging to give his heart to Christ.
And that he did.
We waited patiently around her, watching the monitor for some sign of
a miracle from God, even though we knew somehow it was his will for her
to come home that day. I'm not sure how much time passed in silence,
but as it went by, hopes of keeping her here gradually began to fade
with the daylight. We began to sing. All twenty seven of us were
singing to her. I don't know how long we sang, but it was at least an
hour.
When we ran out of songs, we each began to recite Bible verses from
memory. Most of them we would not have learned without her consistent
coaching.
Before we knew it, word had spread around the hospital what was going
on. We had drawn attention from staff on every floor. If they could,
they just walked away from whatever they were doing to come and watch
what was going on in there. Some even tried to sing along with us. God
was in this room. Even the nurses had trouble hiding tears. The
memories of that special time with her will stay with each of us
forever.
After some time, we ran out of songs and memory verses, and all grew
quiet. We thought that surely we had sung her to the gates of heaven,
but still something was keeping her here. We ached for her, and longed
for her suffering to end, and we didn't know what else to do. But
sometime after six p.m. our preacher arrived. Suddenly, I had a
revelation. "preacher," I asked, "I don't know if you were what she was
waiting for, but we would appreciate it if you would pray for her now."
He prayed a prayer Mama would have been proud of, and I'm sure she was.
I knew he had had a difficult time that day, because someone told me
later, that he had cried.
Twenty minuets later, Mama took Jesus' hand and walked into heaven.
All totaled, thirty people had witnessed this incredible passage. It
was only fitting. She had loved having her family around her, singing
and praising God. What better home going could she possibly have asked
for? But then again, what better saint of God?
Mama was surrounded by beautiful angels in life and death, but she is
by far, the most beautiful angel I will ever see.
As part of this story, I must give credit for its idea first of all to
God, then to my sister in law, Jan. The title had just sort of popped
into her head, and God had led her to give it to me to do with as I saw
fit.
I looked around at the hospital with our large family gathered there,
and at the testimony that had penetrated the corridors, and I thought
that surely, this was her legacy. She had been the foundation for
everything that had happened today. She had taught Jesus to all of us
faithfully every day she lived. I thought surely, this was it. But I
was so wrong.
Six months later my husband was baptized because of what happened that
day.
Everywhere, people were coming back to church, because they knew she
had prayed faithfully for them. She was missed more than anyone else I
ever knew. And I am a changed person. I will never be the same. I now
walk with God every day, not just some days, and I know It is because
of her.
In a dream, Mama came to me and hugged me. I woke up as her hands left
my shoulders. It touched me forever.
It was revealed to me in the hospital that this story needed telling.
The legacy? (cont.) page 7
(cont.) page 6Not so hard to see. It was one of love planted deep, so
the roots would grow strong and replenish. That's what she left behind.
This excerpt from a poem I wrote her for Mother's Day of 2000, sums up
exactly what I mean:
..........And even when she casts no shadow down these rows she tended
so well,
she will always be here; in a place far beneath the simple dirt, there
will her
roots be- the roots of a mother's love that taught us to bridge the
human gap,
the love that taught us to believe in beauty down the road.
END

Page 8
I also enclosed with my story a copy of the poem from which I took the
exerpt for my story.
Beauty Down the Road

Mama believes in beauty down
the road;
Born only of timely wisdom, and
seed planted right.

By the sweat of her brow,
knowledge waters calloused hands,
and for every season-
a smile with the fruit of her vine.

But even when she casts no shadow
down these rows she tended so well,
she will always be here.

In a place far beneath the simple dirt,
there will her roots be, the roots
of a mother's love that taught us
to bridge the human gap.

The love that taught us to believe in
Beauty down the road.

a.j.

In loving memory of my mother who went home to be
with Jesus November 17,2000
I will never forget what you taught me.
angi