The text of the remembrance delivered by Marcia and Andrew Sinclair, two of Herma Sinclair’s children, at a thanksgiving service for her life on Saturday, March 12, at Bethany Fellowship Church on Hagley Park Road in St Andrew.

Mother, grandmother, aunt, mother-in-law, sister-in-law, cousin, she was all of the above, but much more than that to each of us.

She was born in Kingston to Leopold Richards and Gertrude Murray on November 11, 1935. The middle child, and first of two girls.

Herma Joyce Sinclair met our dad, Gladstone Emanuel, as a teenager in 1953. They got married in 1958 and would eventually parent one daughter and five sons. But before her family reached four she accepted the Lord as her personal saviour, following our dad who had done so a couple of years before and was baptised here at Bethany in 1961.

Our mom truly loved children, not only us, her offspring, but her other relatives and the host of other children who always found themselves drawn to her warm, loving and generous spirit. This strong, fiesty woman who dedicated her life to God, made her family her focus and yet still had time for the many others who would find their way to our home. She placed everyone’s needs above her own.

She was the mother of five athletic boys whom she affectionately referred to as her ‘personal team’. She always said she had five boys so they would be each other’s playmates, instead of having to go outside of the home in search of other friends. It appears that she may have been a little too successful in this regard as the neighbourhood kids inevitably found themselves in our home, first in Duhaney Park and then in Havendale, sharing meals and the friendship of my brothers.

I came along a little later, but still got to be a part of my siblings’ world. Some of these guys who played ‘ball’ and/or shared meals with us are here this morning. We thank you.

In 1998, our parents migrated to the United States to be with their adult children and their families. Gladstone predeceased her on November 27, 2002, just two weeks after their 44th wedding anniversary. Similarly, the eldest ‘granddaughter’, Candice, Patrick’s step-daugter, passed on Thursday, December 24, 2015.

Her greatest desire was to see her children come to know the Lord, and she prayed daily that God would honour her desire. She was also big on education and did everything to ensure that she gave us her unwavering support as we completed school and began our individual carrers. She was thankful not only for our sucesses but similarly that of our neighbours and friends.

To Patrick, our mom was the mother who fathered us. No disrespect to our dear dad, but she was the strong parent, unlike our gentle giant of a father. She was fiercely protective of each of us and loved us as if each was her favourite.

To Linden, her second son, she was the matriarch. She was a pillow of strength for the entire family. A mother that prayed ceaselessly for God’s continued watch over her family, through dangers seen and unseen.

She was honest with herself at all times and she was not one for pretence. The love mom had for everyone around her was a source of security – her love for us will last for a lifetime.

To Richard Courtney, she was his rock, his world, providing unfailing support, always enquiring about him and his family. Are you resting properly, are you praying? He was sure that he had someone lifting him in prayer daily. Courtney is our sibiling that spoke with our mom everyday.

To Joseph, she was a pragmatist, a great listener, loving and caring and thoughtful. Brimming with confidence after securing employment and earning a pay cheque, Joseph bought what he thought was an extremely beautiful bouquet of flowers to celebrate her birthday. His gesture was met with the typical feisty Mama Sinc response – “Are you an idiot, what am I gonna do with flowers?” Lesson learnt… the utility of all things. As much as she loved the idea of the flowers, there had to be a greater, more practical purpose for all things. For her, while physical things – if these provided some utility – were desired, she subscribed to the listening ear, the bonds of family, fellowship and circle of friends.

As the years passed, our mom’s concern was that she would become a burden to us as she dealt with her illness. Therefore, even as she thanked God in the last couple of weeks for His faithfulness to her, she longed to ‘go home’. She had become tired of the arthritic pain all over her body – especially in her knees and lowerback. She also remained concerned that she would become more dependent on others if she lost sight in her remaining good eye (having lost sight in the other due to chemo treatments in 2007).

You should know, however, that we had the absolute pleasure to read to her, but she saw this as a loss of her independence…

To me, she was the fiercely loyal mother, who became not only my BFF, but my confidante, my consultant, my prayer partner. She was much more than my mom. I was blessed with the opportunity to have been her caregiver since 2007, and had the pleasure of seeing God’s grace and mercies at work as she remained in remission from cancer (since August 2009).

I got to hear about her days as a youngster when she spent the summer breaks in the country with her grandmother (another prayer warrior), as a teenager; her early years with my dad, even the last years with my dad at our Havendale home when he continued to dream in live, living colour, sometimes reliving the watching of a boxing match and unconsciously punching her in her sleep. To put it mildly, our dad slept badly, and her granddaughter, Jodi-Ann, appears to have inherited this trait.

Mom was eventually rescued from dad’s boxing matches, which he had in his sleep, when one of my brothers migrated and she took over his room and bed. She was great company on any of our road trips across the United States, especially those trips at night when everyone else fell asleep. Invariably she would be the one sitting up, wide awake, singing or speaking softly, keeping me company.

Our dad referred to her as our family’s prayer warrior. And true to form, she was strong and steadfast in her faith, describing herself as a trophy of God’s unfailing grace and mercy, always praising Him in moments of great illness and pain.

She died as she lived – confident in God’s unfailing love and knowing she was going home to be with Him.

To Andrew, she was everything, and I echo the sentiments expressed by my siblings. I remained confident that a prayer was made on behalf of myself, my family, my siblings and their families each day. While her passing was somewhat sudden to us but not to our God, she was ready and always encouraged us to be ready too, to walk that road.

In the week before she left us, she reminded us that ‘we all have to walk this road, so we all need to be ready to meet our God’.

Thank you, mom. We will miss you, but we will continue to give God thanks for blessing us with you.