October 2005
Saturday was my mom's memorial service -- almost 4 weeks after she died. I think she would have liked it -- the church was full, her favorite tenor sang, the choir did a great job, the hymns were short :) the sermon was fantastic and the bagpipers where there to bring her in and take her out (in the urn with the butterflies on it).
And the reception was a party -- with balloons, and frogs, and a chocolate fountain everyone loved and great great food. So it was a G thing.
Here's what I said during the remarks.
When I think about our mother, a special audible picture comes to mind: it’s very colorful, with lots of different facial expressions, her quick wit ready at any time to bubble up, her wonderful sense of adventure, wonderful homes with red doors, skiing, knitting, traveling, books, books and more books, long phone calls, cooking, the beach, her garden, her friends, church, as a wonderful Grammie to my kids.
The character flaws are faded.
What emerges from the picture is how my mom made wonderful, powerful choices –in an emotionally charged life – choices that spread good stuff in the world and made good things happen.
I can hardly talk about everything I feel, so instead I thought I’d focus on a few things that seem to ring true for everyone who has talked with me about our mother in the last few weeks.
My mother had a quick, and sometimes sharp, wit which all of her friends clearly appreciated.
As her long-time friend W told me the other day, “Lee, you mother was a piece of work!” But in a good way! Fast on the uptake and really never without the last word, she could “zing” you from 20 paces – but she was never cruel – just stating what you already knew in a funny way.
A couple of days before my mother died, I was trying to help her with her oxygen tube and I couldn’t get it right and was really doing a bad job of it. Frustrated, I said, “Mom, I wasn’t cut out to be a nurse.” She opened her eyes and looked at me and said with a loud voice “that’s right L!” Even at the end she kept her quick wit, and had the last word!
My mother was nobody’s fool.
People who tried to mess with my mom, learned fast not too bother. Especially when she took off her glasses and laid them on the table in front of her and tilted her head to the right. Once that happened, you might just have well waved the white flag because you were prolonging the inevitable to argue.
My dad used this to his great advantage throughout the last 45 years.
A couple of summers ago, my mother’s car needed servicing, so my father took it to the shop and left it there with the understanding that it would be ready in a week.
A week later he returned to the shop, only to see the car still in the parking lot, not having moved in 7 days. It wasn’t pretty.
After a few minutes of talking with the manger my father stopped and said “I’m going to go get my wife.”
He drove home, picked up my mom, and they went back to the shop. He didn’t even bother going inside, but instead watched from the car as my mother “discussed” the situation with the manager. Not too long after the glasses came off and the head tilted my mother was following my dad home in a free rental car, and since then there haven’t been any service issues.
She expected the best from people and usually got it.
Our mother was loyal. My mom is who you wanted in your corner. When my dad was wrongly accused, she didn’t doubt, didn’t back down, but got organized for a long fight -- dragged my father out to dinner night after night so people would know that they had nothing to hide, told anyone who asked – and some who didn’t – the truth -- and was a dynamic force in getting the wrong righted.
My Mom was a great adventurer. Before she emerged into the great traveler to places like Belize, the Amazon, Brazil, Alaska, all parts of Europe, and The Galapagos, our mother found adventure in the small things of life.
She used to write different activities on pieces of paper and we took turns choosing the little balls. But activities weren’t your normal family outings.
One summer in San Francisco I chose the ball that said we had to go from the city out to the Livermore Labs – basically big brick buildings behind a tall fence with concertina wire on top. This is around the time there were lots of protests at the labs about the nuclear research there. So into the convertible my parents, L and I went – A was safe from adventure at camp – across the bridge another hour and half out to Livermore – drive around, look at buildings and street signs, and drive the hour and a half back home.
“Why would this be a choice?” L asked. “Because,” our mom said “we should see a place you girls might get arrested at.”
Even in the little things, our mom found adventure.
Our Mom could NOT sing. But that didn’t stop her from singing out loud in public.
Our Mom was a great friend. I hope I’ve learned to be as good a friend as my mom was. She always sought out a wide range of people to befriend and then spent time nurturing those friendships in her own special way. She REALLY listened and always helped her friends – ok and anyone else who would listen -- see a path to their goals. My sisters, my dad and I have read every card and letter that has come to the house in the last few months – there are hundreds and hundreds of cards – and it’s a bit humbling to see how much of an impact she made on so many.
Our Mom had tremendous Grace. She always looked for the good in people; she saw potential in hard situations; she believed we are better off by making real connections with people, growing our circles of friends, and spreading good stuff than by being comfortable in our white towers; she knew God gave her strength, but didn’t force her beliefs on anyone; she respected and accepted people automatically; she got angry at injustice; she gave people a second chance when they disappointed her; she had high expectations; she loved abundantly.
When our mother first got sick she said often, “well, it’s better than getting hit by a truck.” At the time I wasn’t so sure.
But I’m so thankful that our mom fought her illness like she did. What a huge gift of time and life she gave us all. She was able to take this experience and make great things happen with it for herself, her family, her friends, her church and so many other people that have come out of the woodwork to tell us how she made a difference in their lives. We all had ample time to make sure she knew we love her.
Now she’s in a better place. I know God has a plan for her, for even in heaven God must need someone like our mom. And I know that she lives on in all of us, influencing our lives in small and big ways that helps spread more good stuff in the world.
And now I know that, yes, it was definitely better than getting hit by a truck.
