When they handed it to me, I opened it.

IN MEMORY OF:  MARY KATHERINE HICKS

Yes, I felt a little "quake."  It hadn't dawned on me about our names being the same or about this little obituary.

My thoughts were: One would think it would be her sitting here reading this, in front of my casket, but instead, it's me in front of hers.

I thought about how conscious she always was of someday having to sit in front of her parents casket.

This dread had been on her mind for years, and even more so, since her dad was having strokes and other health problems.

Just months before God called her home, she again told me that she just didn't think she could handle that experience. Then with tears in her eyes, Mary said, "Mom, I just don't want to think about it."

So, as I sat there in front of her casket: My heart said, "Praise You, Lord, Mary doesn't have to sit in front of Mom and Dad's casket. She's been spared that ordeal. Oh, I'm glad it's me here in front of her casket so she doesn't have to deal with being in front of mine or dad's. So I thank You, Lord! And, Lord I know You have Your reasons and I trust You completely with Your decision."

I never shed a single tear during the funeral. I found myself consoling family and friends. My sister-in-law just shook her head in bewilderment at how well I was holding up.

She and others said, "Oh, Mary Kay you are so strong!" I replied, "No, I'm not!  I'm wet tissue paper! Then I pointed up and said, "He is my strength.  He holds me up!"

A few people expressed to me that they'd never seen a mother handle such a shocking, human tragedy, with such peace about it.

I always let people know that God holds me up.  He's my strength. He provides!

Days later my brother and a friend came to take me to Mary's apartment to get some of her things. All the way over there I was silently dreading this. I felt it would be a mighty tough chore. I prayed for grace to endure this task.

As I gathered up her things I found a couple of books she had borrowed from me so she could share and witness to her friend. Her college text books had book marks with scripture verses on them. She had little inspirational note cards to give to others. I found all sorts of things like that. Even her checks had scripture verses on them.

It was as if God was reassuring me that Mary was safe with Jesus. This kept me focused on Mary's gain and off of myself.

Oh, how God blessed me, even during that hard task.

Later on, I was asked to attend a support group, to try to help others deal with the death of their children. We, in our community had had two other deaths of young high school students whom Mary knew quite well. I ached for those families. Therefore I attended the support group every week.

The facilitator of the group felt I wasn't letting go, and was holding back grief. I kept stating that I'm not selfish. No way could I feel grief when my Mary has the best. She's with Jesus.

Later on, the group was asked to write a letter to our loved one, to say, "good by." I stated that I didn't feel a need to say good by to Mary.