Her Name Was Velda
She was a beauty in her youth, but that was not something we noticed as children. She was our mother -- a woman who was a great cook, beautiful seamstress, and a beautician to boot.
Most people who met her knew she was special, but at the same time words or praise were seldom used.
She was from a family of nine, but many of her thoughts were not shared because she was different than her siblings. She kept her views inside until her later years, and then planted seeds of inspiration in her own subtle way.
She traveled through life taking care of others as so many women did. But her way was truly unique. She did not realize her incredible impact or her incredible nurturing ways.
She was different; she was knowing. She was an elevated soul – one filled with universal truths. When time was more friendly and family was raised, she read metaphysical books, sharing thoughts with us, and trying to point me in a kinder direction than I normally took.
She worked alongside our father, seaming walls, plastering, sanding and painting making his passions come to life through her perfectionist ways.
She had said on occasion that we don’t leave until our work is done, making reference to her brother, who legally died, but was brought back to life. He was not happy returning, and her comment to him was, “Obviously, John, your work was not done.”
On the morning of October 21, 1993, Velda Irene Osborn’s work was completed. She died having an angioplasty – something most people survive. She was 73.
Months later, I was told by a physic lady that she didn’t exit by going through the lighted tunnel that others have described. She was an elevated soul who left her body quickly and became pure light – instantly becoming one with the universe.
My brothers and I are proud having Velda Irene Osborn as our mother, but because I was her daughter, we had a special connection that will last an eternity. I know she is watching over us and that makes me feel very contented.
With a loving heart, BJD