In memory of Helen Nicholson

     My mother, Helen Nicholson, died yesterday afternoon.  She welcomed me into this world in her loving embrace and I told her how much I loved her as she was leaving here.  Her body will soon be reduced to ashes but I continue to feel the presence of her loving spirit.

     I was very blessed to grow up surrounded by her warmth and love.  She taught me about love through her example and that continues to inspire me.  I remember sitting on the porch with my sister while Mom read to us from our favorite books.  When we were able to read for ourselves she always made sure there were books in the house.  She would take us to the library and knew all our favorite authors.  She also volunteered at the school library and encouraged my friends to read by finding books that would interest them.

     When I grew up and moved away from Los Angeles, she visited me in various places where I lived – Arcata, Boise, Spokane, Helena, Missoula and Madison.  We also traveled together to my favorite place in the universe – the Canadian Rockies.  At age 76, she flew from Los Angeles to Indianapolis to meet me there at a Global Ministries conference when I was living in Colombia.  Throughout all those years, her home was always a refuge for me – stocked with my favorite foods and filled with her love.  It feels very strange to be here this morning without her.

     We shared a deep love for nature and a few years ago I found some prose she had written for a high school English class.  “Looking into the sky on a calm, cloudless night, can give me an achingly sweet sensation.  I realize that nature and the universe are so big and overpowering that they have the ability to calm my ruffled thoughts and leave me at peace with myself.  It always helps me to turn to nature, because that way I feel closer to God and to complete happiness.”

     I called Mom on February 11 to tell her about the snow that was falling in Nogales that evening.  It brought back memories of her childhood in Lake Bluff, Illinois and she talked about catching snowflakes on her tongue.  I called her the following evening and she chided me for not having tried that myself.  As we hung up, she told me “I love you Scott Douglas” – just like she did when I was a kid.  It seemed like she knew, in some way, that her life was coming to the end.

     As I told her yesterday, “I love you very much, I’m very grateful, and you can just let go.”

     In loving memory of Helen Nicholson,

     From her son, Scott

Mom, at age 14, at her favorite spot overlooking Lake Michigan

Mom, at age 81, watching the waves crash on the rocks at Cambria, California