Rhoda Yordy

Before I share my own reflections, I would just like to say something to my husband Glenn. Thank you for making that commitment to your mother that you would take care of her. You share that same hard-working spirit that she had; always supporting and loving your family. She was so blessed when you opened our home and invited her to be a permanent resident. I know that she appreciated and loved you very much. One of the last times you came in to see her in the nursing home, she recognized you right away with a twinkle in her eye and said, “I know him.” She couldn’t wait to hug you…it was so precious and I’ll always remember that.

To our children: You have all been gifted with the treasure of a dear grandparent who was able to enjoy many experiences with you. In these last few years, you all became such great helpers in caring for her when needs arose. I thank you, and I know that Grandma felt so happy to have you all a close part of her life.

As I ponder over the many memories that I have with Rhoda, it is hard to pick just a few to share. She has been a part of my life for almost 28 years- just 1 year shy of the amount of time I had with my own mother. Of that time, we either lived nearby her or with her, for 25 years.

I remember her taking me shopping to pick out the paint and wallpaper for our apartment which was just above their garage. Here was this tiny woman driving this big boat of a car-a ford galaxy. There seemed to be nothing that this woman could not accomplish. At the time I met Glenn and through the first 6 years of our marriage, Rhoda cared for her ailing husband Emerson. She was so steadfast and faithful to him with such a detailed schedule so she wouldn’t miss to take care of any of his needs.

Rhoda loved having a large garden and picking her own fresh produce to preserve. She canned and froze so many different things to sustain her family. She also loved having a little group of chickens to care for. About 5 years ago, she completed her last quilt for the youngest and last grandchild. It was a goal that she had had for some time, but she was a little worried about actually meeting it. That day when she finished it, she was so happy. All of her children and her grandchildren received a quilt of her making.

Her heart was always full of praise and thanksgiving. It was her desire for her family to know the Lord and to impart His goodness to many in need. Countless comforters were crafted by her hand and sent to Romania. Many of us received little outfits that she sewed for our new babies. No matter what Rhoda had, she would always find a way to bless others- whether financially or with some gifting of something that she already possessed. It was important to her to help as much as she possibly could- always thinking more of others than herself.

She also had an autoharp that she played every morning. When her husband was ill, she made sure to sing to him. You could walk into the house and hear her in his room with that high voice of hers. She was not shy in her praises. Many visitors were blessed by her playing and singing, as well as those that attended a church service when she brought her harp along. Sometimes we would sing along with her, and other times we would just take in the sweetness of the sound.

I started out as her youngest son’s girlfriend back in 1984; moving up to the rank of being his wife in 1986 and Rhoda’s daughter-in-law. Now we all know the sayings about mother-in-laws, and I was no different at the time in my thoughts. I loved her very much, but believe it or not, this sweet little lady and I knocked heads a few times. I call them ‘world wars’ because they were so intense at times! These ‘wars’ happened over the course of several years; but somehow, by grace, we managed to stay around each other and learn the beautiful gift of forgiveness. I will never forget the evening there in her trailer when her and I shared, cried, apologized, and prayed with one another. It was one of the most powerful experiences I have had.

A transition was beginning to happen with Rhoda’s health at this point, as well as in our relationship. I was becoming more like a daughter. The years wore on, and her needs increased due to her physical limitations. On behalf of my family, I’ll say that it wasn’t always easy, but we are so glad that we were able to have her with us and care for her as long as we did. She was such a blessing. Oftentimes these past few years, I felt more like her mother. Watching out for her and helping her to make decisions…and even having to make them for her when she could no longer understand. Rhoda never complained. She learned how to adapt to things and find a strength to get through whatever was at hand. And she did it with a smile on her face and joy in her heart. This is how it always was with her because she knew that the Lord would be her help and it gave her peace.

Her family was important to her. And how she loved the children…singing with them and reading; having puzzle races and letting them win so she could see their happy smiles on their faces. The children also loved staying over with Grandma because she would give them ice-cream for breakfast :0) When her and Emerson were younger, they were foster parents to many needy children as well. One of these foster sons remained in touch with ‘mom’ up until just a few years ago.

Whenever we would go to visit Rhoda in the nursing home, the staff there would tell us little stories of how they were blessed by her presence there. They loved her infectious smile and how easy she was to take care of…sometimes they tried to get her to complain about something (just to be different), but she would stubbornly shake her head and smile some more. Many there felt a great loss at her passing as well. We were so blessed to have such wonderful people helping to care for her. Several of the residents there really connected with her as well. One in particular was always with her, making sure to watch out for her. I found out recently that she called Rhoda Grandma as well.

Prior to her death, Rhoda enjoyed a shopping spree with some of the other lady residents, topping the trip off with large sugar cookies. She had a sweet tooth. It was a wonderful time they shared; and so timely before she ended up in bed after having a massive, sudden stroke. She was able to convey to me that she was not in any pain, and that she was not cold. A couple of times she squeezed my hand. I knew that she could hear me. When we realized that the damage was quite severe, I spent several hours with her and encouraged her that it was o.k. to leave. I shared many things with her, including her desire to be in the arms of Jesus and the excitement she must be having at reuniting with her husband and two sons. The next day, at 12 noon, Rhoda passed on. That afternoon I envisioned a very sweet, very dear, family reunion.

Though there is a void, and I miss her- I rejoice in the life that she lived and shared, and the blessings that she bestowed upon myself and my family. Thank you for your faithfulness Rhoda. I love you and appreciate you.

Dear Family,

I'm having a little difficulty sleeping tonight. The tears keep falling, but not just because I'm sad. Yesterday afternoon, a few short hours after learning Mom had suffered a massive stroke she quietly, peacefully stopped breathing and slipped into the arms of the One she loved.

Mom had a quiet disposition and took her obligations and duties seriously. When she was a young girl, she asked her mother, "Mom, how come Pa always asks me to fill the woodbox?" 

"Because you don't make a fuss" grandma told her. I remember her telling me how when Dad asked her to marry him, she prayed and wondered, "Lord, is this the one you have for me?"

She soon had a handful of contentious 'fussers' of her own. I'm sure she often wondered what she had done to deserve the lot of us. She did the best she could for us, always anxious that we know and love the Lord Jesus. As a child, I remember looking up at her earnestly singing with her whole heart, words of love, longing, and commitment to her Saviour. Needless to say, it left a lasting impression on me.

Her strong sense of duty, righteous living, and right and wrong sometimes got in the way of her relationships with her children. As I grew up I thought she was too old fashioned and legalistic. There were disagreements, hurts and conflicts. I sometimes let a lot of time go by without talking to her because I didn't want to answer the questions I knew she would be asking.

The one thing Mom always had though, was a tender heart towards the Lord and to her family. Time and circumstances worked and wore away at what were perhaps those legalistic or false religious concepts and were replaced with Godly truths of real righteousness, love and compassion that she readily shared with all who came to her in time of need. I was amazed at her ability to gently share with me the truths of God's word and point me to the One who had all the answers for me.

She never stopped in her desire for a purified life and the heart of repentence was always present. When she was in her 80's she told on herself about how she had kicked Buckey.

Buckey had a habit of sitting right in front of the door and wasn't too inclined to move. She had her arms full of garden stuff or something and when Buckey didn't move, he became the recipient of her displeasure. Now Buckey is just about the sweetest dog God ever put on this earth, and when he looked up at her with eyes full of reproach and consternation, she was fully convicted and asked the Lord to forgive her for her unkindness to one of his creatures. Buckey was still watching over her when we visited in September.

Mom's greatest treasure was her autoharp. Early every morning, about sunup, she would get her harp out from under her bed, sit in her rocking chair, close her eyes and sing love songs to her Lord. If you happened to be visiting, you would be awakened every morning by the twanging of that thing. She wasn't shy about singing and would share with whomever she had with her, her love for her Saviour. 

It was a hassle for her to get it tuned. She had to depend on an aquaintance to get it tuned and one day, frustrated because he hadn't been able to work her into his schedule, she cried out to the Lord. Lord, you did all kinds of miracles when you were here on earth. You could tune it for me. The next morning she took it out to sing and it was perfectly in tune. She never had to get it tuned again. I know the Lord was thinking, "I'm not missing out on this child's gift to me." Two years ago, I went to visit her for Mother's Day and I asked her about her harp. She pulled it out from under the bed, sat down, strummed a little and tried to sing a little line. She stopped. She couldn't remember the words, or how to play the cords. She put it back again. For about two years now, the Lord has missed her singing of her love for Him, but not THIS morning.

Listen now with me, listen carefully and you will hear her singing too,

"There is a Name I love to hear

I love to sing It's worth,

It sounds like music to my ear,

the sweetest Name on earth.

O how I love Jesus,

O how I love Jesus,

O how I love Jesus,

Because He first loved me."