Mason, Dorothy Bowers

Age eighty-seven—January 22, 2016

Dorothy was one of seven children of Jim and Bertie Bowers. She is survived by her husband, Oscar H. Mason; daughters, Marlene (Jim) Butler, Teresa (Phil) Maxwell and Melinda (David) Nowers; 8 grandchildren; 3 great grandchildren; and sister, Peggy Harrison.

Visitation will be Tuesday, January 26, 2016, from 1:00-3:30 p.m. at Otter Creek Church of Christ, 409 Franklin Road, with funeral services conducted by David Rubio.

Grandchildren and great grandchildren will serve as pallbearers. Interment will be private. Woodbine Funeral Home, Hickory Chapel, Directors (615-331 1952). Still family owned.

Letter from the daughters read by Marlene Butler

Proverbs 18:22...The man who finds a wife finds a treasure, and he receives favor from the Lord. Daddy, you found a treasure!

There are no words to adequately describe Mom and how we feel about her, but we want you to know a few things about her. Melinda wrote this for us.

She LOVED to serve her family. If you were in her home, she treated you like you were one of us. When you walked in the back door, after a hug or a “Hi, Honey,” she more often than not wanted to know if you wanted something to eat. “I just made some tuna. Why don’t you have a sandwich?” or something similar was very common.

Each of us had at least one friend while growing up that considered Mom a second mom. She was such a great listener. Our friends would come and talk with Mom and Dad, even if we weren’t there. We heard from some of them telling us that they remembered those times at her kitchen table and tried to emulate that with their children.

One of the great blessings for us is that our children and grandchildren were loved unconditionally, cared for, and prayed for by her. Mom also had a special relationship with each of her sons-in-law. David, Phil, and Jim all lost their mothers as young men. She filled in that gap. Mom’s house was home for them. She loved them dearly as they did her.

Patience was one of her best qualities. Raising three strong willed girls (well.. maybe two strong--willed girls, I’ll let you guess who the two are!) and a strong-willed husband, she certainly

needed a lot of patience. She was so smart about raising children. Her form of discipline was just unspoken expectations.

Mom was the ultimate housekeeper and cook. If she was ever at one of our houses, and there were dishes to be washed or clothes folded, she would do it. It was a joy to sleep in fresh, white sheets at her house. And if we hadn’t had a Sunday lunch in a few weeks, the grandchildren would start asking when Grandmother was going to cook. It was always delicious.

There are more people that she knew, cared for, and treasured than anyone we know. We are finding that she had many groups of friends. From over fifty years of gatherings with New Year’s Eve friends to book club meetings to Lipscomb bookstore luncheons, friends were a huge part of her life.

After she died and our family began sharing the news on Facebook, my sisters and I were in shock after reading about how many lives she had touched. How could we not have known?

She loved to laugh, sing, and dance. She loved to two-step with Daddy, buck dance with her sister Peggy, and even dance with Melinda to Bruno Mars. She loved snow, her bird feeder, going “up on the market” for vegetables, her garden, books, going to Peggy’s on Fridays to get her hair fixed, Christmas, and the beach.

As she aged, her hands became one of the things we loved about her. They were knotty with arthritis, but soft and cool when she rubbed our legs or arms. And she rubbed lots of grandchildren’s arms and legs.

As much as Mom didn’t want anyone to go out of their way for her, over the past month she patiently allowed us to take care of her. It was a privilege for us, and we got to witness Daddy lovingly waiting on her.

The morning she died, snow fell outside the hospital window, and as we drove home from the hospital the snow enveloped us like a cocoon. Even through our tears, we were in awe of the beautiful, white, peaceful landscape. We felt it was a gift from God, a message of hope and peace.

As her daughters, a deep assurance of her love penetrated us. Even if she had have never said she loved us, we would have known. It was the purest love we will experience this side of Heaven. There was no pretense or guile; if you knew her, you knew her heart. Even though she is the best example of the spirit’s fruits that we can think of, she knew well that it is Jesus’s righteousness, His faithfulness, and His perfect love that she was covered in, when God called her home. Our family rests in this assurance.

We love you so much Mom and rest in our faith that we will see you again.

Love, Marlene, Teresa, and Melinda

Comments by Pat Ward

Even though our hearts are broken, we grieve as people who have hope; for we believe that Jesus died and rose again. The grave is not the last word. Since Jesus died and broke loose from the grave, God will certainly bring back to life those who died in him. Dot would want to make sure we talked about Jesus today. She’d probably rather us talk about him more than her. As Dot called for her mother in the ER, I believe she could see things in the realm we can’t see yet. I believe she saw those she loved coming to get her.

How blessed we all are to have had Dot in our lives. I was fortunate to know her since I was five years old. She and Hartie started coming to Lawrence Avenue Church of Christ when Marlene and Teresa were young--even before Melinda was born. They didn’t have a church home at that time, but with two little girls they decided they needed and wanted a faith community in their lives. At first they would take turns coming, the other one staying home with the girls. But before long it became a family thing. There were two services--early and late--with Sunday School in

between. My family attended the early service and the Masons attended the later one. But Marlene and I started going to class together. It was a small church where it seemed everyone knew everyone else intimately. We attended dinners after church and had church picnics at Sevier Park. Hartie became a deacon and my dad an elder. I remember going home from church with them on Sundays and the friendship quickly grew to overnight stays. Dot and Hartie were so warm and welcoming just like they are now. No matter how many were at the table there was always room for one more. It seemed as if I was at their house from middle school on more than I wasn’t.

I got to see the family on a day-to-day basis. I didn’t always realize then what I was learning and what I treasure today. Dot was not your out-front person, but she was always serving. There was no pretense about Dot. She was the same with everyone. She was even, steady, faithful, and strong. I learned early on what a good cook she was – even though Melinda would only eat peanut butter or French fries. Dot schooled us by example. Marlene, how many parties and showers did we give with our names on the invitations but our moms doing all the work?

Dot laughed often and a lot. She laughed at Hartie’s antics. I remember being there for dinner one night and he was under the table poking our legs. Marlene and I were upstairs in the bedroom putting on make-up in the little alcove, and he climbed up on the roof and scared us to death. I can still hear Dot laughing and saying, “Oh, Hartie!”

Dot knew how to love without strings. Her love wasn’t based on merit, though she was your biggest cheerleader; it was based on loving us just as God does--just because. She had that innate ability to make you feel like you were the most special person she could be spending time with at the moment. In fact, I know that Dana grew up across the street from the Masons and flew in from North Carolina for this service because Dot had such an influence on her. In fact, Dot saved Dana’s brother’s life. Scooter had climbed up in a tree and fell out. Dot had just taken a CPR course and gave him CPR until the ambulance arrived. Dot took such pride in her family--children, in-laws, grandchildren, great grandchildren, nieces, and nephews. Peggy, I loved watching the two of you together. You were such a comfort to her in the hospital.

Dot taught me so much: what 69 years of marriage looks like, not just enduring life together but enjoying it. She and Hartie would dance, laugh, pray together, and still cooked together for Sunday gathering. She loved to sing hymns. I imagine she is singing with us today. It was precious in the hospital that her family chose to sing to her in that room. It was exactly what she would have wanted.

Dot listened to promptings from God. I can think of two specific times He sent her to me. I’m sure there were more. Once, after my first baby was born prematurely. I was in the hospital alone that afternoon when the doctor came in to tell me I had to go home without the baby. I was a first time mom and so scared. Dot walked in the room and I was sobbing. She held me and comforted me and stayed until someone came. The second time was when my mother was dying. It had been a long few weeks, and we realized she was getting closer to life with Jesus. As she took her last breath, I was leaning over her, and I felt an arm go around me and say, “I’m here.” It was Dot.

She was the heartbeat of this family. Even in the hospital as there were decisions to be made or people to be contacted, everyone would say, “Dot would know that.”

One of the sweetest and most loving things I witnessed was Thursday night as she worsened. Hartie leaned over and put his hand on her face. He said, “Honey, it is time for you to go and be with Jesus and stop fighting.” That’s what sixty-nine years of real love looks like.

Dot was a wife of noble character. She is worth far more than rubies. Hartie had full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brought him good, not harm all the days of her life. She was never idle. She loved her book club, reading her Bible, her politics, cooking for her family and all of us that she made to feel like family. She loved being in the sewing club. She sat about her work vigorously and her arms were strong for the task. She stayed in touch with family and friends. She was a gentle Southern woman. She was clothed with a quiet strength and with dignity. She spoke with wisdom and watches over the affairs of her family. Her children and grandchildren and many of us rise up and call her blessed. Hartie does too. Many people have done noble things, but, Dot, you surpass them. You were a woman who loved and feared the Lord.

I will greatly miss you. There is a void that cannot be filled. What brings me comfort is the fact that you are with Jesus and that one day we will be together soon. I imagine you are already cooking our feast. You never preached a sermon, but you showed us all what a life lived for Jesus looks like by all the fruit you bore. Everyone in this room celebrates you being a part of their lives. Thank you for being my second mother. God blessed me twice.

Sandra Collins’s comments: We learned Dottie had a gift for growing flowers and making beautiful arrangements, and we used her talents frequently. Here she is a women’s gathering. She helped us with Christmas wreaths and mailbox décor for a YES fundraiser.

Communion talk on the Sunday after Dot’s death

In the last year, we have lost too many people dear to this congregation. The most recent was Dot Mason. At the celebration of her life, her daughters, sons-in-law, grandchildren, two former neighbors (one of whom was our Pat Ward), and David Rubio, who had had six of the grandchildren in his youth group, told of delicious meals and gracious hospitality, how they could bring friends to meals and Dot would welcome them warmly. “Come on in.” Always room at the table.

The common thread was one of a warm, open-armed welcome and grace toward others. A former neighbor flew in from North Carolina and described how Dot resuscitated her little brother who had fallen from a tree and was not breathing. Pat told how she had been in a hospital leaning over her dying mother when she felt an arm around her and heard Dot say, “I’m here.”

At funerals I always think, “Thanksgiving and Christmas will be hard for them this year.” The empty chair. But then I say, “The stories will begin and tears will flow as they remind one another of the person’s impact on their lives, how they have been changed for the better by the one who is gone.” And the presence of the person will be palpable.

Good food didn’t make neighbor children return to the Masons’ house when they were older, even when the sisters were not there. They were drawn by something else. They saw and felt Christ in that welcoming home. God’s will being done on earth as it is in heaven.

We have all been invited here to another glorious meal. Some of us brought friends. Some are new to this place. We remember and tell stories, sometimes with tears, of the unseen host who has revived us, who has changed our lives and is here, celebrating with us. Look around you. You will find Christ in the faces of people here who exude joy, peace, love, compassion, generosity, and inclusiveness, who will say as both Dot and Jesus did, “I am here. I will be with you.” The kingdom come…His will being done.

Prayer for communion Father, words of thanksgiving are inadequate. Please deepen our gratitude for your inexpressible grace toward us. Help us not only understand but feel your forgiving love. Help us celebrate victory in Christ as we share this meal today with people here and around the world. In the name of the risen Lord, Amen.

Prayer for the offering Father, help us realize that the abundant life Jesus promised is found not in getting but in giving, not in self-sufficiency but in selflessness, not in being served but in serving generously with our time, our energy, and our resources. In His name, Amen. Sandra Collins