I love the movie I Remember Mama, originally adapted from Kathryn Forbes’ novel Mama’s Bank Account. The film, released in 1948 and starring Irene Dunne, Barbara Bel Geddes, and Oscar Homolka, tells the humble story of a Norwegian immigrant family who settles in San Francisco to build a life together. My mother would watch it every year for Mother’s Day since I was a child—and one day, as an adult, I decided to watch it with her.
It’s a gentle, moving narrative about family, values, faith, and the quiet strength of a mother who holds it all together. As I approach this year’s celebration of my mother’s birthday, I often think about her in comparison to the mother in I Remember Mama.
Much like the family in the film, our story hasn’t been without hardship. It’s been filled with love, family, faith, tremendous joys and laughter. But as life would have it, our lives were also significantly impacted and shaped by grief. There were tremendous hurdles for us as a family to overcome. And I’ve watched my mother transform—from a young adult getting on her feet, struggling to find her way—into a valiant, powerful woman of God.
A Woman of Quiet Strength
Humble. Meek. Like a quiet storm and a still, small voice of God, she speaks—and the power of God reverberates wherever her voice is heard. Her power is not in thunder or spectacle, but in the stillness: a quiet storm that moves through the Earth, ministering with kindness, love, and unwavering faith. She is unapologetically bold in her belief in Christ. A woman of integrity. Trustworthy. True. Resilient. Strong. And yet always gentle—her quiet strength gives strength to others wherever she goes, to everyone she meets.
We have been blessed to witness her evolution—through life’s transitions, through the storms of grief and loss—to a woman of great faith.
I Remember…
• I remember the day my grandmother passed. She was not only my world, but my mother’s world—her best friend and strongest support. She helped my mom raise my sister and me as a young mother getting on her feet. I watched our hopes and family dreams shatter in an instant. Yet I also watched my mother refuse to fall apart. With a broken heart in hand, she rose up and remembered her WHY—my sister and I—and the legacy her parents instilled in her, so she went to work every single day, even after the world collapsed.
• I remember sleet, snow, hail—tumultuous storms. My mother would rise before the birds, prepare breakfast, and go to work. Sometimes brokenhearted, she still moved with grace and purpose. Her resilience taught me the meaning of work ethic, and how to move forward even when your heart is breaking.
• I remember her raising me as a divorced mother, with the support of my sister, managing her own home with the strength of an entire village. She never complained.
• I remember that we didn’t have much money, but she always made sure I had what I needed—and often what I wanted too. Even if it meant going without.
• I remember watching her rebuild her life and begin her career after my grandmother died—she never stopped going to work and she never quit.
• I remember that though I lost a lot in my young life——she lost even more: her parents, grandparents, sibling, aunts, uncles, cousins, and her love, her husband Pete. And yet, in all her grief, I watched her exercise her faith and forge ahead.
• I remember how faith was always the cornerstone of our family—passed down through generations. We weren’t religious people, but we knew Jesus. And as we all grew older, I watched my mother go from believing in God to walking with Him—living out her calling with power.
• I remember her evangelizing through New Rochelle, passing out flyers for our church’s revivals, boldly walking into any space where people needed hope. She carried the gospel with compassion and courage.
• I remember her standing in the cold as a bell ringer for The Salvation Army, stepping outside her comfort zone to serve others.
• I remember when God called her to start a Bible study at her job for those who were interested. She would come home faithfully, spread out her Bible resources, and prepare her lessons. That was definitely outside of her comfort zone, but she heard God’s call and did it with conviction and authority.
• I saw her step out of her comfort zone and take on leadership as a class leader in church—guiding people in their walk with Christ. Even when others weren’t kind, she remained faithful.
• I remember how she ministered to my father, Pete, supporting him during hard transitions. Though it was not easy, she stood firm, letting God use her to help save his life. Before he left this earth, he was baptized, saved, and praying out loud—the last words I heard him speak. A man transformed by her quiet faithfulness.
• I remember the miracle of our whole family—my mother, my father, and I—being baptized together.
• I remember the night she planted the seed of intercessory prayer in me. We had just finished talking about our Uncle Danny that had just passed away, and before we knelt to pray—just as my grandmother had taught her to do— If you have legs to walk, get on your knees and pray —she looked at me and said: ‘You have to pray for people. Your prayers can save a life.’ That moment shaped my calling.
• I remember our ‘parties,’ the nights where we enjoyed ourselves and sometimes coped with tough times. But I also remember when she made the decision to fully surrender everything to God. She left that life behind and walked in holiness—using prayer and faith as her source of comfort and strength.
• I remember being a college student and my mom sharing Our Daily Bread devotionals with me, planting the foundation for my own prayer life and relationship with God.
• I remember Christmas mornings when I wanted something expensive—Jordans like the other kids, a gaming console—Nintendo, or a special ask. She would pinch pennies, manage our household budget like a master, and still surprise me. She did it alone. I never felt the lack, only the love.
• I remember the moment my husband and I planned to marry and move out—but God had other plans. My father passed away abruptly. Instead of separating, we came together and stayed united. God allowed our matriarch, and our new family to remain together, and she has been a tower of strength when everything around us fell apart.
• I remember my own illnesses and hardest days. She was there—helping me walk, lift a leg, sitting beside me when my body was failing.
• I remember being a young adult still living at home, struggling to find my way. And in those moments, she didn’t judge—she taught. She sat me down and taught me how to budget, manage money, clean, organize, and run a household. Because of her, I am able to care for my family with excellence—I learned by watching her.
Legacy
If I could recount every lesson, every sacrifice, every act of courage—you’d still be reading this tomorrow.
I’ve watched my mother rise up after devastating loss, step into her calling, manage her home with excellence, and live out her faith with power. She is everything Proverbs 31 speaks of—faithful with her hands, clothed in strength and dignity, speaking wisdom, and fearing the Lord. Her children rise and call her blessed.
God takes ordinary people—fragile, weak, riddled with challenges, people with a past, people who have made mistakes—imperfect but perfectly human—and shapes them like a mosaic: fragmented, yet beautifully pieced together to become His masterpiece. YOU ARE GODS MASTERPIECE!
A Thank You to Mama
Thank you, Mommy, for your faith—even when we didn’t know we needed it.
Thank you for not falling apart when everything around us was falling apart.
Thank you for rising, for enduring, for showing up—even at your weakest.
Thank you for passing down wisdom, integrity, and work ethic.
Thank you for being a strong tower in our darkness.
Thank you for showing us what it looks like to overcome—moment by moment.
Thank you for fulfilling your purpose with grace and power.
You are God’s vessel on Earth. A quiet storm. A compassionate light. You are deeply loved, highly honored, and truly treasured.
A Final Blessing
Fear is a great paralyzer and often accompanies grief. I’ve watched fear try to attack you, and yet you’ve stepped out of your comfort zone, rising to meet the challenge with the power of God and the courage of a lion.
This last season—especially with the pandemic—has been excruciatingly hard for people worldwide. It has left an indelible mark of fear. Grief and loss and death—and their unpredictability—have shaken us in unspeakable ways. But as you’ve always done, and as you’ve taught me:
Keep going.
God is not done with you yet. Be encouraged in this new season of your life because greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world.
So, today we scream: Happy Blessed Birthday, Mommy.
It is our prayer that your latter days will be greater than the former, that healing waters will tend your garden, and that every tear you’ve cried has watered a harvest of unspeakable joy.
No eye has seen. No ear has heard. No mind can imagine what God still has prepared for you.
We love you—deeply, truly, and forever.
Sincerely,
Your family ❤️
