When Jesus was preparing his disciples for his death, he told them that he would send a comforter. He was talking about the Holy Spirit.
The Comforter
When she arrived and asked for me, my friends pointed in my direction. She saw me sitting in that lounge chair, lifeless, and she approached. I stood just long enough to fall into her arms. She held me so tightly and I cried aloud into her chest. It was the first time that I cried aloud. I screamed and hollered a muffled cry into my mother’s bosom and she held my waist and the back of my head and whispered: “Jesus…JESUS!”
It broke her heart to see me like that. so weak. so tired. so sad.
She told me later that she needed to see me. She needed to lay eyes on me. She knew that I needed her but – after this horrible event – she needed to see me also.
Mom is always saying that “a good leader knows what she doesn’t know;” so in typical mom fashion, she had done her research prior to coming. She had spoken to a few women who lost significant loves. She asked them what she should do; what she should say. They told her not to say anything; that there was nothing that could be said. They told her to simply be present and listen.
She was good at that.
After our moment outside, we said goodbye to my sorors; just Klay, Monet and Andrea remained. We went inside and decided to sit down for a meal, there was food everywhere.
My mom looked around the house with a confused look on her face.
“Where are we?” – the wonders of the country house were not lost on her. We had only given her an address, but not much detail about where we were and how we ended up there. After a brief explanation, she shared Klay’s sentiment:
“Well if you MUST grieve, best to grieve in a place like this…”
We all sat around the small wooden table in the kitchen. They made me a plate of food but I was not eating. Instead I chose to listen as each friend shared themself with my mom. And she in turn shared herself with them. Klay, Monet and Andrea were intending to leave and drive back to New York that night, but instead they decided to stay.
Aunt Margot was there.
My mom is a special lady. She is incredible. Most people know her as a Key Bank Executive, or the National President of the Links, but I know her as mom. And my friends know her as “Aunt Margot.”
My mom is compelling. She is the type of woman that walks into a room and commands space. She is very approachable though, and friendly. And funny. And wise. She knows a lot about a lot and can engage on many topics. She’s an amazing story teller. She’s a magnet of energy. She is beautiful.
I have always enjoyed sharing my mom with my friends. Even as a child, friends used to say: “you have such a cool mom.” She is the person that many friends confide in and seek motivation from. Her anecdotes and funny sayings become jokes that are repeated over and over – they last for years and years.
I honestly don’t know how she does it. I don’t know how she balances having such a busy professional and social life and is still able to be so present with us.
My mother has been so present with me in my grief.
And she was physically present then. At the country house.
Sitting around that table and watching my friends talk about life with my mom was a gift. I was thankful to share her. I didn’t have much to say, but my friends were getting to spend quality time with my amazing mom in a house in the country around a small wooden table. It was precious.
And that is how it would be for the next nine days, until the funeral. My mom would be a gift. A gift to my community of friends and loved ones. Anyone who dared to come around and spend some time with us, got to spend quality time with The Comforter. And that is significant. My mom is very busy; she is typically scheduled months out in advance. She rarely has this much time. But she took the time off to be with me. She canceled trips and meetings. She cleared her schedule. And I was so thankful.
The Comforter had arrived.
Soon after that we all went to bed. Klay Monet and Andrea would stay one more night. I snuggled in bed with my mom. This time I slept for 3 hours or so. Tomorrow would be another day.
But Kesner was still dead.
© Copyright Thank You Very Sweet, 2011
Thank You Very Sweet 
Ahhh Kim! The Comforter indeed!! Your mother is that and so much more, as you and her countless friends, colleagues and supporters all know. She inherited so many of these great qualities from her mother and father, both of whom were great Comforters, especially to my parents, my sister and me. So, I know what a blessing her “presence” meant to you during incomprehensible moments, days and weeks. As a mother, she feels your pain and deep sadness, and she knows that you, her daughter, possess the internal fortitude and spirit to survive this tragic time in your young life. Keep the Faith!
With love and admiration,
Aunt Judy A.
mama copeland….I know her differently, but love her just the same. A stong soul. A guiding light….there at ‘just the right time’…..