This is the second of the “two very serious articles on family and heritage” that the humorous article of Saturday, 4/29/2023 mentioned. The first article today honored my mother-in-law.
I took the above photograph, on Tuesday, when I started writing this article. The painting hangs, proudly, in our dining room. I look at it several times every day. This article's initial conclusion will explain the story behind that painting.
Please pause a moment, before reading further, to read “My Mother's Birthday, 1/21/2021, at Age 91 (published 1-24-2021).” Please also read the December 2022 comments to that article. That article sets the background for this article.
This article is in memory of my second, or adoptive, mother, Ozella McTigue Scott. My adoptive sister and I both call her mother. The 1/24/2021 article, cited above, includes:
My Mother, Ozella Scott, is also the finest Christian example that I have ever known. (I can have two, my Mom and my Mother. They are equally the finest!)
Ozella McTigue Scott (1/21/1930 - 4/26/2023)
My wife and I had hoped that the Good Lord would wait, to call my Mother Home, until after we could visit this summer. Regrettably, “life, such as it has been,” hindrances, especially since 3/29/2016, had forestalled a much desired visit to our Missouri family.
The summer trip to Missouri is still planned. The next visit with my Mother will be everlasting.
On Wednesday, April the 26th, my Mother was able to walk and jump like she did in her younger days. Her memory regained its brilliant clarity. She was perfect. Her hair didn't need to change from gray to black, since she never had gray hair. Of course, her Irish eyes didn't need to change. They continue to smile, as they always did, reflecting the sweet and everlasting soul behind them.
About 7:30 AM, on Wednesday, April the 26th, the Good Lord called Mother home. My adoptive sister called to let me know. The phone beeped once, instead of ringing, as usual. I thought that a smoke detector had beeped. I figured out that it was the home phone. When I called my sister back, to talk about our Mother's journey Home, I mentioned the beep. My sister said, “That was our Mother!” You know, our home phone always rings, as usual. That was the first time that it beeped. That beep, as my heart knows, must have been our Mother, signaling that she had flown upward, into her bright and everlasting Home.
I remember the good folks at McMikle Funeral Home very well. Our Mother's obituary is on their website: Ozella McTigue Scott, of Charleston, Missouri, Obituary: January 21, 1930 - April 26, 2023 (on McMikle Funeral Home).
The memorial service was on Monday, May the 1st. The obituary mentions that I would be one of two ministers, officiating at the service.
My adoptive sister would like to have seen my wife and me, but she knew, graciously, that my “bionics” might not endure the approximate seven-hour drive. (She has her “bionics” also.) Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I wanted to make the drive. My “bionics” have endured only a few two-hour, one-way drives. Sitting too long returns muscles to their traumatized memories. Walking, hiking, and moving around keeps them more limber. Wisdom dictated another solution.
McMikle Funeral Home and the Appalachian Irishman - Podcasts home studio had the technology. The honor and privilege, for my part of our Mother's service, was delivered virtually, on Monday, May the 1st.
The day after our Mother went to her everlasting reward, I composed my message. I was alone, but I felt as if I were speaking live, during the actual service. I tried to speak the words that I had prepared, but emotion frequently overcame my script. Emotion poured from my heart and soul more than I'd expected.
My funeral message, honor, and tribute to our Mother is: Ozella McTigue Scott (1-21-1930 to 4-26-2023) Funeral Message, by Marion W. Ferrell (on 4-27-2023).
I listened to that message once only. Early in the recording, I'd misstated that our Mother was age 63. I'm glad that I corrected that, later, to age 93. I did not want to rerecord, to correct that error. Composing the message was difficult enough, the first time. I may listen to my message again, but some time needs to pass first. If I hear myself again too soon, then the emotion will come back too quickly.
In initial closing, I'll explain the story behind the painting. I'd taken the photograph, below, on the same day as the above photograph. The image shows the upper left corner of the back of the painting.
Back in the late 1980's, I'd asked my adoptive Mother, Ozella Scott, and my adoptive Mama, Ollie McTigue (who went to Glory, on Sunday, July 14th, 1991) to sign the back. They did, graciously.
The painting hung in the kitchen and dining room, of the McTigue home. During the many occasions, when I enjoyed dining with the family at the noon meal, I admired the painting. I commented on the relaxing scene. A boy, girl, and their dog were going fishing, near a covered bridge.
The loving and kind spirits of my Mama and Mother gave me that painting! I had tried to decline, but their caring insistence would not accept “no” as an answer. The painting hung, in honor, in the dining room, of our homes, first in Charleston and then in Dexter, Missouri. It was stored safely, during our five years in Russia (1994 - 1999). Lord willing, the painting will be our gift, one day, to a loving and caring niece. After this article is published, I plan to print and attach a copy to the back of the painting – to explain the history.
Hey, Sis! You and I had another good conversation by phone earlier today. Happy birthday today! No, I won't write how old you are, but you are my older sister! I'm your baby brother! Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I look forward, Lord willing, to visiting our Missouri family next month. Just keep the light on for us!
Your life continues to honor our Mother and our Mama. Their loving spirits live on in you. I know that you are passing along that same spirit to your children and grandchildren.
Dear Lord, as my written prayer, thank you for blessing me with my Mom and my Mother -- the finest Christian examples that I have ever known. We, the family who are still here, await the time, when we join the unbroken and everlasting Circle. In the name of Christ, our Savior, amen.
Beautiful Marion, as always. Love you Baby Brother!
Thank you, Sis. Lord willing, “Mrs. Appalachian Irishman” and I will see y'all next month! Love you too, Sis.! Tell all the family howdy!
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