Wednesday, June 03, 2015

She got away

My mother died yesterday morning. She was 68. She had a vast influence on all of us. "She got away" was the simple three word message on manys a phone call yesterday, a figure of speech familiar to country folk  – implying release, freedom, of going to a far better land. She had suffered for 11 years with injuries sustained in a car crash and a litany of illnesses which arose as a result.

"But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him." – 1 Thessalonians 4v13-18

"There is a saying among the Scotch, that an ounce of mother is worth a pound of clergy." - often attributed to Rudyard Kipling.

Here is her father's favourite hymn - a crackly version of William MacEwan's landmark 1911 recording of My Ain Countrie.
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A am far frae ma hame an A'm weary aftenwhiles
For lang'd-for hamebringin' and ma Faither's welcome smile
An A'II ne'er be fu' content, untae ma een dae see 
The gowden gates o' Heaven, an' ma ain countrie.

The earth is deck'd w' floo-ers, mony tinted, bricht an' gay
The birdies warble blithely, fer ma Faither made thaim sae
But these sichts an' these souns wull as naethin be tae me
When A hear the angels singin' in my ain countrie.

A hae His guid word o promise that some glaidsome day the King
Tae His ain royal palace all His ransomed hame will bring
Wi' een an wi' hairt rinnin owre we shall see
The King in aa His beautie in my ain countrie.

Ma sins they hae been mony, an' ma sorrows hae been sair
But there they'll never vex me, nor be remember'd mair
For His bluid has washed me white an His haun shall dry my een
When He brings me hame at last tae my ain countrie.