Some Snapshots of My Mother
Esther Luella Kirker McKinney
April 20, 1920 - March 3, 2007
Eulogy Delivered by Lynda Lambert at Esther's funeral service
Our family loves to take snapshots at family events. It is a way of keeping memories alive and to remember each other and the things we did together. In this photo Mom is flanked by her great great grand-daughter Delaunay, and her great grand-daughter Brandi. The photo was taken about six months before her death.
I would like to share just a few “snapshots” of my Mother, Esther McKinney with you this morning as we celebrate her homecoming together.
This first snapshot was taken in the early morning hours before dawn.
I called my Mother to say, “I am leaving now.”
She replied, “OK, I’m ready.” In the pre-dawn darkness I walked down the familiar road that runs through the Village of Wurtemburg where generations of our Mother’s family have lived. I walked past the house my Grandfather built for his family of seven children. The house was located right at the corner where I turned to begin the steep climb up the Heights Hill. Just the thought of this house brings back a flood of memories to me. It is where our Mother spent her childhood and when I look at old family photographs I see that most were taken somewhere on the grounds of this old house.
As I hiked up the hill, short of breath, I looked up and there at the crest of the hill, I saw my Mother coming to meet me. As always, she was cheerful and ready to go. We began our morning walk together. It was something we did for years. Each morning we walked anywhere from one to two hours. We walked around Wurtemburg, and around Frisco. Our path was never the same from one day to the next. But our meeting place was always the same at the beginning of our journey – the Height’s Hill in the darkness of the morning.
On our walks, she always shared with me whatever stories she had read in her Christian magazines. She especially loved Guideposts, and she loved the “700 Club” on TV. Unfortunately, I was not so thrilled to hear those stories she so glowingly told. I would squirm as she “preached” the gospel to me though other people’s stories. Mostly, I hated it. Looking back today, it is clear to me that I was her personal “mission field.” Sharing those stories with me her assignment from God, and I was his target.
In her late 50s an affliction of arthritis progressed in her body. She had to get up early in the mornings to soak her hands in hot water, trying to find some relief. Despite the crippling pain, she was always ready to go most anywhere.
My life is so intricately woven with my Mother’s that there is not an event or a place where I cannot find her memories.
She had a number of professions:
Counselor: She taught me how to be a wife and how to deal with my children. She was never farther away than my telephone, and usually within a few minutes she was there in person whenever I needed her. She counseled my children and my grand children and she delighted in the presence of her three great great grand children.
Traveling Companion: She sat in on lectures at Slippery Rock University, and she hung out in the printmaking studio at West Virginia University. We went on drives through the WV mountains together. My Mother did not like the country and she would become extremely anxious when I would notice that I forgot to put gas in the tank and it was now on “empty” and I had no idea where this road was going or where we would find some gas.
Art Connoisseur: Though contemporary art was a mystery to her, she attended all my exhibition openings. My artist friends knew my Mother. I can still see her seated at one of my shows, with artists coming up to greet her as she sat smiling and proud of my efforts.
Pen Pal: For a number of years she was a pen pal to some prisoners in southern Ohio. My Mother and Father were on the prisoner’s visitation list and made trips to the maximum security prison to visit the young men she wrote to. Her faith took her many unexpected places. She cared deeply for other people who had situations and problems and she put a face to the word “love.”
Shopper: “Yard sales” were her specialty. She was crazy about them.
Our Friday mornings were often spent going from one yard sale to another. She looked for small things like a piece of Tupperware, some glasses, or coffee mugs to add to her kitchen “stash.” My Mother was delighted with little things. She also love to shop at the mall and her closets were full of the things she liked best – shoes and coats. In fact, my Mother loved to shop, period!
Dancer: At every family wedding, my Mother barely left the dance floor. She knew all the latest dances. She danced the night away and would leave the wedding limping because she never sat out a single dance. Just a couple years ago, when I took her back home to the Assisted Living Home, I had to tell them to give her some Advil because she was going to be hurting tomorrow!
Health and Fitness Expert: Long before health and nutrition were fashionable, my Mother was doing exercises to the “Chicken Fat” album – a fitness routine set to music. She led the grandchildren on “fitness” marches in the house, all to the music of the Chicken Fat record on her stereo. She had every health magazine available, was on every vitamin company mailing list. In fact, she actually broke her hip in her 70s doing the “electric slide” at the gym where she exercised all the time. In the back yard, she and my father had an enormous garden for growing fresh vegetables. Summers were spent canning and freezing the harvested fruits and vegetables.
Beauty Expert: My mom knew true beauty when she saw it. Beauty was something she saw in the faces of her family members. Until the final months of her life, she would look at you with a big smile and say, “Oh, you are so beautiful!”
I envision that the next time I see Mom, she will be coming over the crest of the hill to meet me at the halfway mark. We’ll be laughing as we begin another journey together. And, I will look at her and say, “OH, you are so beautiful.”
