I wrote yesterday about baby Brooklyn and my mom. After reading it again, I felt I should really go into a little more detail about my relationship with my mom. What easier way to do that than to post the eulogy I wrote for her.
She was very sick for a very long time. She was in the hospital and then SHE made the decision to go to Hospice. My family did not like this decision, but I told mom that I would support her in whatever she decided. And I did.
Before she transferred to Hospice, she asked me to deliver her eulogy. At 23 years old, having my mother ask me to do that was a whole new experience all in itself. But I told her that I would be honored, and that I would love to do it. I wanted her to be able to proofread it, but before I finished it, she was gone. I feel I did her proud and that she would have been giggling and crying just like I was when I said it.
Plus, it will explain the grilled cheese sandwich comment from the last post.
Here it is, hope you enjoy...
Mom always said she thought I had a way with words. Whether I was reciting a poem I wrote, telling her why she should switch to a different brand of dog food, or begging her to get my ears pierced. So when she asked me to deliver her eulogy, I wasn’t surprised. I was honored, but not surprised. But then I ran into the problem of figuring out how to put into words, the story of my mother. How to explain the joy in her laughter. The unconditional love in her eyes. The fact that she never met a stranger. And every person she spoke to, she made smile. Even if it was by asking them “what’s invisible and smells like carrots”, the only joke she knew. I realized there is no way to verbally express how beautiful she was. But I would like to share a few of my memories with you.
Mom could always make you smile. No matter how terrible your day went, or how bad you felt. She had a way of just making you giggle. One day in particular, I was having a rough morning at work so she said, “want to get some Krystals?” Who can refuse that! She and I ordered and were waiting for our food when we noticed a gentleman, obviously disappointed in his meal, stomping up to the counter. “Excuse me ma’am,” he said loudly, “I can’t eat this, the bread is all soggy…no, I just can’t eat this.” Mom looked at me with her big smile and winked, before the cashier could respond, walked over to the man and said, in front of the busy lunch crowd, “Well, darlin’, that’s how they are supposed to be!” Right as I was about to hit the floor and hide from the embarrassment, everyone in earshot burst into laughter, including the man with the soggy Krystals. All I could do was smile at her.
I can’t count how many grilled cheese sandwiches we ate together. Everyday I would drive to her house on my lunch break, we would discuss what I we made for dinner the night before and how next time to do it her way, talk about the weather or who was going to be on Oprah today. She would fix us each a grilled cheese and we would eat and just talk. Then, without fail, she would ask if Jessica wanted a sandwich too, and of course she would, I mean, who could refuse mom’s grilled cheese?! So she would get up, make Jess one and have it done just in time for me to high tail it back to work. See, she couldn’t make that one when she made ours because it had to be warm for Jessica. That’s how mom was. Always doing the little things to make everyone happy.
Magan reminded me of the day this year that she and mom and I met at Arby’s for lunch and mom insisted on ringing the bell. Even though the entire time she made it very clear that they DID NOT make her day. She did it to be silly. To make us both laugh. Catie shared a memory with me just the other day about mom being the ‘Chocolate Milk Police’, let’s just say that Catie likes to have some milk with her chocolate. Mom would slickly roll back to the kitchen counter in her wheel chair and say “Catherine” in that mom-caught-you tone. Or when any one of us would sneak into the junk food cabinet, she would always know what you were doing but never failed to ask, almost saying, put it back, you don’t need Oreos for lunch. I could stand here for hours and remember things she did to make us smile. Like last Valentine’s Day. She somehow found the largest, greenest Valentine’s Day frog and brought it to me at work. She knew I didn’t need a three foot tall green frog, but she did it because she knew that it would make me happy. And that I would smile and giggle like I was a child again. That’s what made her happy. Seeing the people she loved, simply, smile.
When I was a teenager, one Mother’s Day I typed up the lyrics to Wind Beneath my Wings and gave it to mom. For years, every time I heard this song, I thought of my mother. Now, more than ever, these lyrics mean so much. I would like to read the song. I won’t sing it; I wouldn’t want to put Bette Midler out of a job. But here it goes…
It must have been cold there in my shadow, to never have sunlight on your face.
You were content to let me shine, that's your way, you always walked a step behind.
So I was the one with all the glory, while you were the one with all the strength.
A beautiful face without a name -- for so long, a beautiful smile to hide the pain.
Did you ever know that you're my hero, and everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle, 'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.
It might have appeared to go unnoticed, but I've got it all here in my heart.
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it, I would be nothing with out you.
Did you ever know that you're my hero, and everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle, 'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.
Fly, away, you let me fly so high.
So high against the sky, so high I almost touch the sky.
Thank you, thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings.
Speaking of thanks, Thanksgiving Day is just around the corner. A time of year when we are thankful for the people in our lives. The blessings they remind us of each and everyday. There are no words to express how thankful I am. I feel it was a privilege to have the mother I did. To have inherited her loving spirit, her ability to forgive any and everyone, her patience, but above all the love she taught me to give. She taught me that no matter what obstacles I may face, to love unconditionally. I will treasure that always.
A friend recently told me to think of her as a big, bold, magnificent star in the sky. Every person who saw this star was touched by it’s beauty and light. Once you’ve seen it, you will never forget its brilliance. And because she burned so bright, and changed so many lives, she burnt out too early. She has found her home in the heavens, where she belongs. So next time you see that big bright star up there twinkling at you, or maybe you’ll see it just shoot on by, I want you to remember mama. And the love that she taught us all to give.
