TERRY MOSHER
CHRISTINE MARIE “Chrissie” Mosher
There is so much love that goes unused that I find it worth sharing when somebody uses love as a weapon of choice without being pushed into it. There are so many mixed up and stupid and ugly and violent things going on that it’s nice when something like this occurs without any hidden agenda.
I’m talking about my niece Christine Marie “Chrissie” Mosher who died June 19 in my old hometown of Portville. N.Y. after an eight and half year’s battle with cancer. My brother – Chrissie’s father – called her Angelic, and he is spot on in describing her that way.
Chrissie was different right from the start of her 48 years from her 13 brothers and sisters. For one, she was the tallest one. All the rest seem like they came from the same cookie cutter mold – all about 5-10 or shorter – but she towered over them in a room and not because she approached six-feet tall but because of her obvious spiritual level.
And Chrissie was different in that she was a difficult birth and lost some oxygen in the process that left her just a tiny bit handicapped, although she was intent on getting a higher education and by the sheer determination and grit and mental fortitude she accomplished that with a two-year degree in medical Technology from a local community college.
A few years ago, determined to live on her own she moved into a remodeled building in Portville that used to be the old Portville Central School where I spent most of my early school years. I have fond memories from that building, and the baseball and football field that lies behind it, and the gym that used to be attached to it before being torn down in the remodel years ago. I get chills just thinking about it.
It was in that building and in her apartment that she died as two of her sisters held her in their arms at 5:20 a.m. on June 19. Just two weeks before she had mentioned to one of them that she wanted to go. Go where, she was asked? “Go to heaven,” she said. “I’m ready to go.”
She was ready, but many others were not so ready to let her go. Her sisters and brothers and nieces came in from all parts of America in the past year, taking time off from work or precious vacation time to share the caring for her as her battle slowly drained life from her. They came from Oklahoma, Arkansas, Georgia, Tennessee, Ohio, Illinois and from New York and other states to be with the one they loved so much.
There are many remarkable back-story lines about Chrissie. Despite her handicap she was the first to offer to help, the first to help without asking, and the first to be always giving and the last to be taking. She was, as my brother suggests, an Angel walking among one of the most loving families existing. A large family, if it isn’t already obvious to you. Kids and grandkids and in-laws and out-laws (I’m kidding here) were always coming and going in the Mosher house located in Richburg, N.Y., a little village tucked into the foothills of the Allegheny’s that at one time in our history was destined to be one of the richest oil towns in America, but now holds less citizens (about 450) then it does deer, foxes, bear, and pigeons and chickens, most of whom belong to my nephew Matt who lives in that big white house along with his parents and Chrissie before she moved to Portville.
They held the funeral and gravesite service for Chrissie Thursday (June 25) and the youngest of the 14 children of my brother Ray and his wife Peggy, Teresa (a principal at a big high school in the Rochester. N.Y. suburb) wrote on Facebook that saying goodbye at the ceremony and driving away from the gravesite was the toughest thing she ever had to do. It was Teresa who held Chrissie’s hand and rubbed her arm and told her she loved her as Chrissie took her last breathe.
It was Chrissie, though, who got the last word on love. As she was dying, she made a conscious decision to give back one last time before she left to be with her Lord. Chrissie had made and purchased personalized necklaces with a cross and the names of her seven sisters for each of her sisters, and purchased similar necklaces for her parents. And then in a last act of grace and eternal love wrote that the niece that spent the most time caring for her in those last months was to have her car.
With that, Chrissie was gone. She will not ever be forgotten, however. And in a world that seems to be getting smaller and smaller with the avalanche of information now available instantly on hand-held devices that brings us the terrible news of shootings, beheadings, death by downing’s done slowly in cages, and the continued lack of love shown by many, whether by horrid attempts to legislate rules that do away with health care for all or change regulations that help billionaires and huge corporations get richer at the expense of the middle class and poor, it’s our loss that we now don’t have one tall and very Angelic Angel showing us how it should be done, with love to all and to all with love.
Be well pal.
Be careful out there.
Have a great day.
You are loved.