Friday, April 10, 2009
Interstate Happenings
The end of a long exhausting day... driving 4 hours there and 4 hours home from my mother's burial, visiting with a friend's family who experienced the death of their loved one two days after my mother and being held hostage in a van with my four children who all decided that I wasn't experiencing enough stress and needed to do the "drive my mother crazy dance". Well, surely I needed something good to end that day and lo and behold I never could have imagined that it would happen in the way it did. On the last leg of the trip the left lane going onto a bridge was closed... My husband merged our 15 passenger van(enough seats for each kid to have their own)into the right lane, then watched as car after car zipped on by not even attempting to merge. Being very tired and not wanting to wait while more inconsiderate jerks advanced and merged further up, my husband zipped "the bus" back into the left lane blocking the way, that lasted for about three cars before new arrivals decided to one up him and use the breakdown lane to surpass us. The black pick up truck that was in front of us in the right lane, quickly got out of the lane and blocked the breakdown lane and the car behind us did the same in the right breakdown lane. The three of us advanced with the moving traffic, staying bumper to bumper so that no one could squeeze past. It was absolutely brilliant and never would have worked without the three of us working together. A few minutes after getting onto the bridge we passed the black truck and each gave the thumbs up. The truck driver was a young guy in his Navy uniform on his way home. What a powerful moment of community us three against the oncoming traffic!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Saying Goodbye to My Mother
My mother passed away March 14th 2009, joining my father after being apart for thirty years.
Five days after her funeral I delivered her eulogy. Everyone tried to discourage me, saying it would be too difficult as I had a daily relationship with my mother for my entire adult life. After a few days making notes and finally sitting down, it took me 7 hours to write the eulogy. I was told by the priest that all the eulogies could only last a total of 10 minutes. I wrote mine trying to choose my words carefully as not to take up to much time, but wanting to honor her without shortchanging the life she led. I finished feeling it was perfect and told the Priest that it may take more than his allotted 10 minutes(after all I wasn't the only one speaking), but it was the best I could do. I almost chickened out and had my husband read it for me. The night before the funeral I said "no way, can't do it" My husband read about 3 lines and I said, "give it back, it can't be you, it has to be me, my words, my passion, my inflection". Poor guy he use to do public speaking, so I think he was shocked at how strongly I reacted.
The next morning I said, that I was going to do it. I still wasn't 100% confident and whispered to my husband to be my back-up. Once I arrived at the church, I felt so strong and just knew that I was going to do it and be fine. I thought of all the times in childhood when I said I couldn't do something and my mother referred back to The Little Engine Who Could and remembered the familiar chant, "I think I can, I think I can I know I can...." My 13 year old son decided that he too wanted to eulogize his grandmother and he wrote his and went before me. He did a beautiful job and had such poise it was unbelievable. That almost broke me.... As he came back to the pew, I kissed his cheek, told him that she was watching and would be so proud. I started walking up to the pulpit fighting back the tears from the pride I felt in my son, knowing that if I let just one fall, that I wouldn't be able to stop. I sucked it up, smiled and said to my mother, "I got this, don't worry." I did it! Perfectly and was on a high afterwards. I followed the casket out of the church, and when I saw my best friend at the back of the church, I smiled and mouthed, "I did it!"
The following is the Eulogy I wrote and delivered on March 19th:
Christie Ann Campbell Matthews. Some of the names she responded to were Chris, Christie, Mom, Mama, or Rusty, as my father loving referred to his red haired bride.
She was a woman of great faith that never waivered. Her strong faith was a guiding light in our lives, which enabled us to endure the loss of our father, for we knew it was not goodbye, it is see you later or as I prefer to think, to be continued... This church meant the world to her, as did her Episcopal faith, which she proudly displayed by wearing the symbol of the church on a chain for as long as I can remember.
Generosity should have been her middle name as it defined her purpose in life. She dedicated herself to volunteerism here at St. Aidan's by teaching Sunday School, her years of service in the nursery, the altar guild and delivering Meals on Wheels. Besides the church, she tutored refugees, served many years with the Head Start Program as well giving countless hours to our elementary school.
Her dedication to her family was perhaps the strongest force in her life. She was a stay at home mother and cherished it. It is remarkable to realize she had 4 children all within 4 years and 2 months. Her love for my father was perhaps her greatest gift to us. We will always have the memories of their "smooching" sessions in the hallway. Being a widow at just 39 and never remarrying prompted the question as to why, which she replied, " I married the only man I couldn't live without." Whenever she mentioned the length of her marriage, she always said 19 1/2 years, that 1/2 half year was significant to her and needed to be noted. She did so much to make our childhood special. It is difficult to narrow it down to just a few examples. She will probably be greatly remembered by us for all the cards we received for every occasion, including St. Patrick's Day. I remember the pride I felt when I realized that not every ones mother did that. She was very creative, sewing many outfits for my sister and I. For Christmas each year, we still use our funny childhood stockings she made shaped like Christmas trees. She took such effort to make molded chocolates for each holiday, including the fourth of July. Perhaps the most loving example of her dedication to family was when she waited until Scott had graduated from high school, before going to college herself, graduating Magma Cum Laud with a Masters Degree in Communications. It was with great pride that we witnessed that ceremony.
Perhaps the most significant example of her love for the four of us was found in her coffee table. Realizing she had dementia she wrote all of our birth information in great detail even including our projected due dates.
One of the most admirable qualities in Christie was her strength. She loved to tell the story of when she was newly married and told my father that if he expected her to wash his socks he had better put them in the hamper. One morning at 5:30am while getting ready to report to duty, he asked her if he had any clean socks. She buried her head under the pillow and softly asked, "Did you put them in the hamper?" He grumbled as he searched in the dark for his socks. She was only 20 years old and possessed such great confidence.
Fast forward to age 66, when after her heart attack she exercised daily to regain her strength to be able to take the much desired trip to Scotland. Scott described his aching calves and how she handled those hills with no complaints. Her doctor recently described her as "tough as nails," which was most appropriate.
Mom, Thanks for being you, for choosing our father and for loving us.
It is not goodbye, see you later, to be continued.
I must admit that the last two lines got to me, as I was talking to her and I cried as I said them.
Tomorrow I will be traveling to Arlington National Cemetery for her burial with my father. She always joked that she would get to spend eternity "on top". I had to hold it together for the funeral, this will be too much....
Five days after her funeral I delivered her eulogy. Everyone tried to discourage me, saying it would be too difficult as I had a daily relationship with my mother for my entire adult life. After a few days making notes and finally sitting down, it took me 7 hours to write the eulogy. I was told by the priest that all the eulogies could only last a total of 10 minutes. I wrote mine trying to choose my words carefully as not to take up to much time, but wanting to honor her without shortchanging the life she led. I finished feeling it was perfect and told the Priest that it may take more than his allotted 10 minutes(after all I wasn't the only one speaking), but it was the best I could do. I almost chickened out and had my husband read it for me. The night before the funeral I said "no way, can't do it" My husband read about 3 lines and I said, "give it back, it can't be you, it has to be me, my words, my passion, my inflection". Poor guy he use to do public speaking, so I think he was shocked at how strongly I reacted.
The next morning I said, that I was going to do it. I still wasn't 100% confident and whispered to my husband to be my back-up. Once I arrived at the church, I felt so strong and just knew that I was going to do it and be fine. I thought of all the times in childhood when I said I couldn't do something and my mother referred back to The Little Engine Who Could and remembered the familiar chant, "I think I can, I think I can I know I can...." My 13 year old son decided that he too wanted to eulogize his grandmother and he wrote his and went before me. He did a beautiful job and had such poise it was unbelievable. That almost broke me.... As he came back to the pew, I kissed his cheek, told him that she was watching and would be so proud. I started walking up to the pulpit fighting back the tears from the pride I felt in my son, knowing that if I let just one fall, that I wouldn't be able to stop. I sucked it up, smiled and said to my mother, "I got this, don't worry." I did it! Perfectly and was on a high afterwards. I followed the casket out of the church, and when I saw my best friend at the back of the church, I smiled and mouthed, "I did it!"
The following is the Eulogy I wrote and delivered on March 19th:
Christie Ann Campbell Matthews. Some of the names she responded to were Chris, Christie, Mom, Mama, or Rusty, as my father loving referred to his red haired bride.
She was a woman of great faith that never waivered. Her strong faith was a guiding light in our lives, which enabled us to endure the loss of our father, for we knew it was not goodbye, it is see you later or as I prefer to think, to be continued... This church meant the world to her, as did her Episcopal faith, which she proudly displayed by wearing the symbol of the church on a chain for as long as I can remember.
Generosity should have been her middle name as it defined her purpose in life. She dedicated herself to volunteerism here at St. Aidan's by teaching Sunday School, her years of service in the nursery, the altar guild and delivering Meals on Wheels. Besides the church, she tutored refugees, served many years with the Head Start Program as well giving countless hours to our elementary school.
Her dedication to her family was perhaps the strongest force in her life. She was a stay at home mother and cherished it. It is remarkable to realize she had 4 children all within 4 years and 2 months. Her love for my father was perhaps her greatest gift to us. We will always have the memories of their "smooching" sessions in the hallway. Being a widow at just 39 and never remarrying prompted the question as to why, which she replied, " I married the only man I couldn't live without." Whenever she mentioned the length of her marriage, she always said 19 1/2 years, that 1/2 half year was significant to her and needed to be noted. She did so much to make our childhood special. It is difficult to narrow it down to just a few examples. She will probably be greatly remembered by us for all the cards we received for every occasion, including St. Patrick's Day. I remember the pride I felt when I realized that not every ones mother did that. She was very creative, sewing many outfits for my sister and I. For Christmas each year, we still use our funny childhood stockings she made shaped like Christmas trees. She took such effort to make molded chocolates for each holiday, including the fourth of July. Perhaps the most loving example of her dedication to family was when she waited until Scott had graduated from high school, before going to college herself, graduating Magma Cum Laud with a Masters Degree in Communications. It was with great pride that we witnessed that ceremony.
Perhaps the most significant example of her love for the four of us was found in her coffee table. Realizing she had dementia she wrote all of our birth information in great detail even including our projected due dates.
One of the most admirable qualities in Christie was her strength. She loved to tell the story of when she was newly married and told my father that if he expected her to wash his socks he had better put them in the hamper. One morning at 5:30am while getting ready to report to duty, he asked her if he had any clean socks. She buried her head under the pillow and softly asked, "Did you put them in the hamper?" He grumbled as he searched in the dark for his socks. She was only 20 years old and possessed such great confidence.
Fast forward to age 66, when after her heart attack she exercised daily to regain her strength to be able to take the much desired trip to Scotland. Scott described his aching calves and how she handled those hills with no complaints. Her doctor recently described her as "tough as nails," which was most appropriate.
Mom, Thanks for being you, for choosing our father and for loving us.
It is not goodbye, see you later, to be continued.
I must admit that the last two lines got to me, as I was talking to her and I cried as I said them.
Tomorrow I will be traveling to Arlington National Cemetery for her burial with my father. She always joked that she would get to spend eternity "on top". I had to hold it together for the funeral, this will be too much....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)