The Verse Is Done But The Song’s Just Begun


I thought she’d live for weeks more. She’d rallied in the end, unexpectedly, but so like Mom.

Adelaide B. Golden passed from this life into the presence of the Lord on Tuesday afternoon, February 6.

Those who knew her called her Skip.

My twin sister had been there earlier in the day. Mom didn’t look as well as she’d looked just days before. Her frailty in the end was nothing like I remember of Mom. As I’ve talked to my sisters and brother, that’s one of the things we’ll remember about Mom–she never quit. Her methods weren’t always gracious, but she did what she felt she had to, with energy and passion.

Mom’s passing has been a process that’s given me time to consider what life will be with her no longer here to talk to or visit. Her life has put fingerprints all over mine, from the way I deal with people now as an adult to what I value in others. She’s impacted me with the things she’s done and not done, with how she expected life to look.

Mostly I’m remembering how well she loved my Dad.

Sixteen years ago on February 12, he went home to be with Jesus. He’d had a series of strokes that had diminished the man that he was for several years. He couldn’t speak in the end, but every time he’d look at Mom, his face would light up. His eyes grew bright.

Some of my fondest memories are of the two of them dancing. In each other’s arms, they became a single entity, gliding and grinning, moving with the music. They were magic–before “Dancing With The Stars” was even a glimmer in the eyes of producers.

Mom was a woman before her time. Her strength came from not wanting to be limited to the ’50’s picture of housewives and mothers. She was no domestic goddess, but she ran a tight ship and expected us to do our chores without complaint. She set the bar high as far as achievement. Without words spoken, we knew we were expected to give our best, no matter what it was we were involved with. She could be a tough task master.

Mom never settled for mediocre.

Mom went back to work when we were in high school, selling everything from fabric to luggage for an outfit called Marshall Field and Company out of Chicago. She was ridiculously good at it. Dad regretted never getting her into real estate. With a grin, he’d say, “She’d have made a killing.”

When Dad died, she lost a little of her sparkle. The last week of her life she’d carry on conversations with him–she saw him standing at the end of her bed. What Janet, my little sister, had done earlier in the week, Gayle did with her last moments with Mom.

She gave her permission to leave.

Hours later, Jesus took her home.

I have complete confidence in that.

I’ve cried and laughed over memories of Mom. I’m still in shock but grateful Mom and I ended well.

I’ve got a picture in my mind of her dancing with Dad.

And Jesus is there, clapping in time to the music.




24 responses to “The Verse Is Done But The Song’s Just Begun”

  1. Love you! Praying for your heart!


    1. Thanks, dear friend. It’s been a heck of a two month run. I hurt, but I’m so glad she’s finally free.


  2. What a sweet tribute! Even with the promise of heaven, it’s hard when they go. This stage of life can be that way. But praise to God for his eternal promise. I love your picture of Jesus standing and clapping to the music!!


    1. Jesus’ presence and joy seems so real to me in all this. As tough as she was as a mom, it’s really hard t let her go. Thanks for the encouragement, Mar.


  3. So beautifully put. Prayers for you and your family. 🙏


    1. Thank you sweet friend. So grateful for that kindness.


  4. Love you so much Dayle!
    The beautiful words you wrote have painted such a picture in my head of your mom and dad, that it felt like I was reading a love story, that was being played out in front of me. It really was magical and beautiful!
    You are loved. You are cherished. You are precious; in the eyes of God, and in the eyes of both your beloved parents. Who, no doubt, are smiling down on you and are cheering you on, because they couldn’t be more proud.


    1. Oh, Maddie, your kindness and the wonder of your old soul really touch my heart. Thanks so much for your encouraging words.


  5. What a beautiful tribute to your mom. Tears came to my eyes, and I even read it during an executive level meeting…that’s the power of your written words. Thanks, Dayle


    1. You are more than kind, Kev. I appreciate your tenderness in writing this–it’s like a balm to my soul.


  6. Praying for comfort and peace. So so sorry for your loss


    1. Thanks, dear friend. She’s free now–fully and finally. I’ve got to rejoice in that.


  7. Dayle – so very well said! Grieving with you! And Rejoicing with you in the Sure Hope of Heaven! Prayers for you – your sisters – and your whole family!


    1. Thanks, Bob. I appreciate your sweet kindness in these words. The Sure Hope of Heaven indeed! Nothing else makes this side of heaven worth it.


  8. Dayle, I’m so sorry about your mom… but what wonderful memories of her and her beautiful relationship with your dad.


    1. They were truly committed to each other. In their own ways. And now that she’s finally and fully free, I’m excited that she’s got no more baggage to deal with. What a blessing it is to know Jesus! Love you, Sam!


  9. Huge hugs 😦


    1. Thanks, my friend. She was a pistol. A wild child really. We didn’t get along well while I was growing up–come to find out I’m more like her than I ever thought. Appreciate the hugs.


  10. What an honoring tribute to your mom.


    1. Very kind and encouraging words, my friend. Thank you.


  11. Dayle,
    Praying for you. Great tribute to your mom and her impact on your life. Enoch


    1. Thanks for your kind words, Enoch. I deeply appreciate your comment.


  12. Dayle — Lovely tribute to your mom. I’ll be praying for you in the days and months to come as the loss of a parent is huge! xxooo


    1. Thank you so much for your sweet prayers. You’re so right–the loss of a parent is huge. I’m an old orphan.

      Liked by 1 person

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