The Second Year of the Post-Mother Fields Era

“Smurfette, I think I should tell you that Mother Fields passed away this afternoon.”

 

 

 

 

Hi, Everyone!

It was on this very day, two years ago, that my mom uttered those haunting words. Even though it was just two years ago, they still feel like it just happened.

I have regaled you all with wonderful stories about the late great Mrs. Harriette Fields, who was a respected figure and a decorated fixture at my church back home in Southern Cali. I still remember my dad’s lighthearted joke: “We can’t get to Heaven by works alone, but by the work that Mother Fields has done here around the church, I betcha anything that her name’s already in the Lamb’s Book of Life!”

In a way, my dad had a point—Mother Fields did so much around the church. She was on the Mothers’ Board, the Trustee Board, and she was also a spiritual advisor and Sunday School teacher to the young adult women of St. Matthew Baptist Church. However, of all the young women to nurture and pass on wisdom to, Mother Fields chose little ol’ me (pardon the expression). And while she never boasted about her works in the church, I loved how Mother Fields would humbly smile and nod whenever she was recognized for something.

Around this time last year, I made a statement that it has already been recorded that only the righteous will see God, and that Mother Fields earned her righteousness a long time ago… and I still stand behind my statement. In my eyes, Mother Fields was the perfect example of a lady. Now, don’t get me wrong—I have some real strong examples in my mom, my aunts, and my Gramma Jewel, but they’re all in a class all by themselves. In terms of looking outside the bloodline, Mother Fields was the epitome of a lady, and she carried herself as such.

Lately, whenever I think about Mother Fields, I think about the very last time I saw her—Sunday, December 30, 2012. Service had just ended, and everyone was showering me with well-wishes, seeing as how I was due back at Rust to complete my freshman year. When I turned to exit, there was Mother Fields, waiting patiently. Aside from a monetary gift and some good advice on living life, the last thing she said to me was: “Keep up the good work and stick it out to the very, very end. I love you, Dearie.”

And that is the only picture that we took together, and it means a whole lot more to me now.

In closing today’s blog post, I just want to say: Mother Fields, I still miss you, my friend, but I know that you’re in a much better place. Thank you for those many years of advice, and for choosing me out of the proverbial pack. Until we meet again, I love you lots.

 

 

Hugs & Kisses,

Natasha