Mom’s Eulogy

I finally organized my mom’s funeral services. She passed away on November 17, 2018. I put off the services to avoid the holidays and the potential problems of traveling to New England in the winter months. Then it got pushed back from this summer because I was moving and settling into a new home. And suddenly it was August and Mom still hadn’t not been honored and her ashes laid to rest. I was feeling rather guilty. We had her services on what would have been her 90th birthday on September 23, 2019. Many family members and friends attended and I thank them.

Gary always reminded me that funerals are for the living. To support one another in our grief. To share stories and memories. And the saying is true that weddings and funerals bring people together who probably wouldn’t gather otherwise. We all say that we will organize a gathering that isn’t a funeral but that rarely happens. Life intervenes. There is a conference, an child’s event – other plans that keep us from family gatherings. But for a funeral there is no excuse – we attend if we can. And that is good. Even if it is under sad circumstances we gather to share memories, to reconnect, to appreciate what we have. And, not withstanding memories, that is the last gift that the departed bestows – the gift of sharing and kinship and love.

Since time has passed, I was emotionally able to give Mom’s eulogy. I was directed by the reverend to keep it fairly short. What I initially wrote is much longer. Here is the version I delivered. There was so much more I could have said about Mom. Stories I wish I had included, but those came out over lunch as family and friends reconnected.

I think that we don’t always appreciate our mothers enough. We expect them to always be there to support us or offer advice and and extra hug when needed. Even when we don’t live close, just knowing your Mom is here on earth is comforting. It is hard to let go.

I learned more about Mom’s early life after she and Dad moved back to NH. After she went into assisted living, I heard so many stories as we drove around Keene. She would point out where she lived, or where. Aunt Betty lived or where her sister Terry fell through the ice.

Mom was never a neat person and was forgetful. She told me how when she would consistently forget her hat the priest would comment that she would forget her head if it wasn’t attached.

And books! Anyone who her knew her knows she loved to read. As a kid we made weekly trips to the library. She used to tell everyone that, “I was born with a book in my hand.” As a child punishment for her was taking away her library card! Even when her memory was failing, she always had a book by her side.

Mom and Dad lived in a few places over the years, NH, Chicago, Niigara Falls, and Concord, MA and had a child in each location. She raised 4 children and also took care of Dad’s parents in our home. But she embraced new adventures. We went camping for family vacations – sometimes in pretty remote places. And Mom loved to fish. She was a bit of a “legend” in the area for her ice fishing technique. She would stand by the hole and say, “here fishy, fishy.” When she got a bite the whole lake would know it as she yelled out in excitement. She would put the pole over her shoulder and run away from the hole and the fish would come popping out! Dad and my Uncle Ed were out fishing one summer and someone asked if they had seen the crazy lady fishing that winter. They both smirked and played dumb! But Mom embraced and enjoyed what ever she undertook.

The family took up skiing when I was about 8-10 years old and Mom wasn’t going to sit in the lodge. She was timid but she mastered the snow plow and could go pretty much anywhere. She had a big down coat and she looked like a puffy little star going back and forth across the slopes. We went skiing with our neighbors at their place in Maine each year and their son Paul nicknamed her “insulated Arlene”.

When I was in grade school Mom went to college and got her teaching degree and Masters in special education. She waitressed in order to pay her way. She taught for awhile and then ended up in the Human Resources department and doing training at Digital Equipment Corp. She loved Digital and thought the sun rose and set over the Digital Mill. I remember when I got a job at Lotus Development (the makers of the 1-2-3 spreadsheet for those old enough to remember) she told me to get experience so I could get a job at Digital!

Mom was alway frugal – probably a consequence of growing up during the depression and being poor. She loved yard sales and bargains. When she was in assisted living and Wendy or others would send her a greeting card after reading it she always turned it over to see the price. “Oh my goodness, they paid $3.99 for this card! That is outrageous! They should save their money”. It got so when I would give her a card I would ink out the price or buy the 99 cent ones to avoid her reprimand. But, I hear myself saying the same thing when I go to the store to buy a card.

Mom enjoyed traveling and was thrilled when Dad got involved in the reunions and history of the 446th bomb group that Dad was part of WWII. It meant at least a trip every year. And they did take cruises to the Bahamas, Alaska, Tahiti, and Australia and New Zealand. They did enjoy their retirement years.

It was hard to watch Mom’s memory deteriorate. It was hard to become the parent to my parent. But, Mom accepted the change and was always appreciative of everything I and others did for her. She was never in a rush to get up in the mornings or to get moving. She always wanted 5 more minutes- which became a bit of a problem when her short term memory was gone. I told her I was going to put “just 5 more minutes or her headstone – she laughed and said I should!

I was thankful that Mom remembered me up until very close to the end. She was a wonderful, caring and generous person. She volunteered and was active in our communities and churches. She had many friends and will be missed. Her life was well lived. On the 90th anniversary of her birth, we come together to say goodbye. May she Rest In Peace.

I thank you all for coming to celebrate her life.

Emotional Triggers

It surprises me what can trigger intense emotions and bring grief back to the surface. It can be any number of things. A song, a phrase, a place, a smell, or even a book and the emotions it stirs. I just finished listening to Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese and am moved to tears. I just want to sit her and unabashedly cry my heart out. To cry for the loss of my soulmate. To cry for a truncated life. To cry for what could and should have been. But, life isn’t like that. It has its own twists and turns and the intervening of fate. I cry and yet I stop. For in the end crying releases my grief for a time but it can not change the past. I know that I will dry my tears and return to the present. I know that life goes on and I must not let it pass me by. I am here. If anything, I have learned that I must appreciate what I have. To move forward and to embrace each new day.

Why did this book trigger such intensity? I can’t pinpoint it. I haven’t written a post in months, why did this novel move me to put my thoughts down? Perhaps it was the story of love lost and found, life, unintentional hurt, retribution, misunderstanding, intertwining of decisions and actions, or the sanctity and appreciation of life. And fate. The book, very loosely, is about a family in Ethiopia and the path of a surgeon. Obviously there is so much more to the story. There are no commonalities with my life except perhaps, some of the medical scenes which stirred memories I would prefer to stay buried. The bookits story and message touched my heartstrings. It made me think. And to remember. And while the memories make me cry, they also validate the emotions and experiences of my life, of some aspect in anyone’s life.

When I am affected by a book I often ponder how authors can develop such intracate novels. How do they develop the messages they want to share? How do they create an entire group of people and conversations and life? Do they have a connection to an alternative universe where these stories actually happened and they are just the reporters who have no choice but to share? I am awed by the power of some to touch my raw emotions.

I am happy when I find a book that touches my heartstrings. That makes me laugh or to cry or both. Most importantly is that a novel makes me think and to contemplate life. And spurs me to write a blog post that shares my thoughts, clears my tears and sorrow and makes me rejoice in life.

Embrace each day, my friends. Remember and honor the past but don’t let any parts of it ruin your future.