My beautiful dear sweet friend, cheerleader, running partner, orchestra mom, teacher mom, fun mom, spiritual giant, positive energy giver Chris Mains died in September. I loved her so much and haven’t posted simply because I am still a teeny bit in denial.
Chris was the first friend I made when I moved to Arkansas 19 years ago. I met her and Jadene Hughes in the mother’s lounge. Later, Chris and Jadene threw my baby shower for Quincy. We spent years waltzing the halls at church with tired or noisy babies, and a dozen more years running and training for half marathons together. Chris was the best listener and gave the very best advice. Her oldest son, Eric, was Reese’s violin teacher, Reese and Melissa graduated high school together and were at BYU as freshman at the same time, and Quincy and her son Ryan are very good friends.
I will miss Chris’ calm voice. She spoke carefully and thoughtfully. I will miss seeing Chris working in the temple. I went for a run by myself yesterday and when the lyrics, “I need a friend” by Benson Boone chirped in my ear, I thought about the miles and miles and miiiiiles we covered running together. How are any of supposed to get on without her?
Chris’s service was beautiful. Ryan spoke and gave perfect tribute to his mom. Eric played in a string quartet with Jesse Collett and friends Ella D and Henson B, accompanied by Lance R on the piano.
The guys in their “Canes” friend group sang in the Childrens choir.
All the kids Ryan’s age piled with us onto two rows so Ryan could look back and see a mass of youth supporting when he spoke. He inherited Chris’s charismatic likeability. I snapped these pics during their rehearsal.
I love the next two photos because they show how Chris taught her friends and her children to love life and appreciate good health. She never complained, even when I knew she was in pain or that her lungs were struggling. Chris was a woman of faithful endurance. Her life was well lived, loved, and enjoyed.
“Chris Mains was the very first friend I made when I moved to Northwest Arkansas 19 years ago. Like she did for everyone, she made me feel like the most important person in the room. We had many conversations in the halls and mother’s lounge with tired babies and later, we ran miles and miles and miles together. Chris was the ultimate encourager and the finest example of motherhood. She gave all credit for good things to the Lord. Always. Every time.
I once kind of cornered Chris when I saw her in the temple, and asked for permission to buzz and bleach Ryan’s hair. I thought for sure she would say no, and to my surprise, she cheerfully granted permission right away. Later, I shamefully admitted to her my guilt for asking her in the temple and she said “Meg, my answer would still have been the same. I appreciate that you sought my permission, but some choices are mine to make as a parent, and this was not one of them. This was not a mistake by any means but an example of how our kids cannot learn how to use their agency well if we never actually let them make any decisions. We only guide them along the way but ultimately let them make their own choices. My job here was easy and all I had to do was tell him what brand of shampoo to buy.”
She had already taught me this lesson several years earlier when I expressed my frustration to her that my daughter wanted to quit violin. She asked me, “Meg, this is not your decision to make. Do YOU want to play the violin again? YOU can take lessons.” So Reese quit orchestra and I signed up for violin lessons. And when I quit lessons two years later, instead pointing out my hypocrisy, she said, “I’m so glad you did that for you!”
On a run once, Chris said “I never understood why as a tiny Chinese woman I was given such broad linebacker shoulders! I have finally decided it means I’m just well equipped to bear heavy burdens.” Pretty sure the fierce army of friends who prayed and bedded and pleaded with God for Chris’ life to be preserved were all those who have felt their own burdens made light by Chris’ blessed shoulders.
She loved to remind us that our bodies and brains only operate at 40% capacity. So when we get weary, we need to declare, “40%! I’m only at 40%!” To remind ourselves that we always have the strength within us keep going.
As we ran, Chris championed me through highs and lows of motherhood, through sending my first child off to college, through returning to college myself, through foster care. She always kept an eternal perspective, and she helped me set up our sealing to our youngest children after their adoption. I recognize her positive influence in my life daily and every time I cheer for another person, I know it is a little bit because of what she did for me.”
Chris was the best type of person and she was the best kind of mother. She was important to me, and I strive to be more like her every day.
