The year my son Tim was three, super heroes were popular at our house. One day I heard Laura, then six, say to Tim, “OK, we’ll play. You be He-Man and I’ll be your mother.” Tim’s baffled response was, “He-Man doesn’t need a mudder.” And Laura said, “Of course he does. Everyone needs a mother.”

My own mom died when I was just 45. Have you noticed no matter how old we are or our parents are, we’re never ready for them to leave us? So I was fortunate to have another woman be there to fill that gap for me.

You see, I had the best mother-in-law in the history of the world.

Ya, ya, I know all the stereotypical mother-in-law aspects: nosy, meddling, and bossy. Rosalie Thatcher was none of those. Through the 30 years we were family, there was not a single instance of upset or discord between us, and I’m crediting her countenance for that and not my own.

Unfailingly selfless, constantly optimistic, forever faithful to her belief in Jesus Christ and the Bible, she served as a role model for all of us.

When she was 80 she told me that she wished she could drive so she could volunteer at a nursing home. I’m not kidding.

When she talked with you, whether it was after an absence of a day, a month, or a year, she could recall something about what was going on in your life the last time she had spoken to you. She was the epitome of mindfulness.

Rosalie died a few weeks after she turned 100. I swear she was holding out for the huge party her family held for her. She was so happy that day, still radiantly beautiful, and surrounded by her family and friends.

My favorite memory of her occurred in the last year of her life. Our area had suffered severe storms in the aftermath of a hurricane elsewhere, so she and my brother-in-law came to stay with us until their power was restored.

At day’s end Rosalie was tucked into bed in our guest room, and I had kissed her goodnight. As I was leaving the room I asked if she wanted the door to be closed or left open. She said to leave it open.

I went i nto the room across the hall and lay down, likewise leaving my door open in case she called out during the night.

And then I heard her softly saying her prayers out loud. I couldn’t make out the exact words, but here’s what it sounded like: the uplifted lilt of a happy, thankful woman talking to someone she deeply loved. I drifted off to sleep with that most beautiful sound in my ears.

There were three ministers who delivered a message at her funeral. That may sound quite peculiar, but you see, over the years Rosalie had asked them each if they’d speak at her funeral. And since they had each responded affirmatively, by golly, they all showed up.

One minister summed up my second Mom perfectly:  Rosalie never saw the glass as half empty OR half full. To her, the glass was always brimful and overflowing.

Happy Birthday, Rosalie.

To my readers: Share a story about a family member who has had a great influence on your life.