Eulogy for Mom

My mom passed away on October 10, 2007. For a while now I’ve been thinking about sharing the eulogy I wrote for her. I am proud of it because it accomplished what I wanted — it made people laugh and remember my unique mom. I’ve held off putting it on my blog because I thought in some way it was in bad taste. I don’t know. Then I remember back to how my sisters and I were flailing after my mom died. We didn’t know what to do and how to do it. So I’m sharing the eulogy I wrote for my mom to remember her during the holidays and also to let people know what worked for our family at my mom’s service. My advice is to celebrate what is unique about the person you have lost. Celebrate their life.

Here goes.

You’ve all heard the saying “when all else fails – read the directions”

Well, although my Dad wouldn’t assume this to be true about me — I do read the directions. When I am interested in learning something new I almost always read about it first. So when I approached writing a eulogy for my mother the first thing I did was go to the library and find some books on the subject.

That night I got into bed early with the books and started reading. I quickly discovered that these books were useless to me.
You see – we are not a typical family, this is not a typical funeral and mom was not a typical mom.

I resorted to Google. Yes, I googled eulogy. I found a lot of sites that will write the eulogy for you or give you examples of eulogies for just $5.99. There is actually a site called “instanteulogy.com” and on that site it actually says “click here to be on your way to an easy, heartfelt eulogy. You’ll be so glad you did!” MasterCard and Visa accepted.

I searched further and found a site that provides a step-by-step guide to writing eulogies.

Step 1. Recognize the Honor.
Over the last couple of months I have noticed how all of us kids have very different strengths. Sandy has wowed me with her super human strength for caring. I find myself leaning on Diane like she is another parent. There were definitely times during the last couple of months where I felt I just could not help. Giving the eulogy is something I thought I could do and it is time for me to do my part. I do this for my siblings, for my Dad and for Mom.

Step 2. Remember and Recall
The day that mom passed many of us were by her side. We sat in her room reading and talking quietly. Except for Karen, she talked loudly. Hours before Mom passed I saw Dad caress her face and tell her she was beautiful. Mom couldn’t speak but I’m sure if she could she would say something like “Horse Hockey, David!”

After Mom passed Karen drove Dad home, John offered to stay with Mom, and Diane started making calls about the arrangements. Later in the day Dad offered to take all us girls out to dinner. We ate and drank and ordered a second round of drinks because Dad was picking up the tab.

We toasted to Mom and shared stories. I will share with you some of mine. They are not particularly funny or poignant but they are mine.

When I was about 10 years old I was getting ready for school and my mom wanted me to wear some hand-me-down dress. I informed my mom that I forgot to tell her earlier but my gym teacher told me that I couldn’t wear a dress on that particular day. Yes I agreed it was very unfortunate since I too wanted to wear the hand-me-dress but it was beyond my control.

At the time I didn’t know that parents could tell when their children are lying. My mom said that she wanted to come to school with me and talk to my gym teacher about this recent no-dress-wearing policy. I tried to convince my mom that that wasn’t necessary and that she didn’t need to come to school with me. No luck. She was determined to get to the bottom of this.

We walked out the door together, off the porch, and down Lenox Road toward Grinnell Elementary School. All the while I was trying to convince my mom that it wasn’t a big deal and that she should turn back. We got half way down the street before I spilled my guts. I told her that indeed my gym teacher didn’t have no-dress-wearing policy and that I lied because I didn’t want to wear the dress.

I remember her being really cool even though I had just admitted that I lied. She casually said that she knew I was lying and could I please not do it any more. I am a parent now and I look at this as good parenting advice. Let your children squirm and suffer until telling the truth is the only way out.

Another memory that stays with me about Mom isn’t one memory at all. It is pile of memories stirred together. It is a memory of me swimming in the ocean at Rocky Nook. Mom is sitting on the beach probably with Mrs. Eldrige. Her freckled back was in that permanent arch as a result of sitting on the beach for so many years. I am swimming back and forth in the water, parallel with the beach, trying to perfect my swimming skills. Over and over again I yell to my mom – “Look Mom. Mom, look”. She’d yell back real advice like “ don’t kick up so much water” or “bend your arms more”. This doesn’t sound like much of a memory but to me it is very strong. My mom was there for me. Telling me how to be better at something. And the funny thing is — I consider myself a very strong swimmer and it is a testament to my mother that she could teach me how to a swim while never actually getting into the water.

Step 3. Final Thoughts
The step-by-step guide on how to write a eulogy says a good way to end a eulogy is with a poem, or saying or religious text.

Perhaps it is a little corny but I feel like Mom and Grampa Burke would both like it if I recited an Old Irish Blessing called Remembered Joy.

Don’t grieve for me, for now I’m free!
I follow the plan God laid for me.
I saw His face, I heard His call,
I took His hand and left it all…
I could not stay another day,
To love, to laugh, to work or play;
Tasks left undone must stay that way.
And if my parting has left a void,
Then fill it with remembered joy.
A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss…
Ah yes, these things I, too, shall miss.
My life’s been full, I’ve savoured much:
Good times, good friends, a loved-one’s touch.
Perhaps my time seemed all too brief—
Don’t shorten yours with undue grief.
Be not burdened with tears of sorrow,
Enjoy the sunshine of the morrow.

And lastly I want to leave you with one last very specific reason that I am sad that Mom is gone. You see –Mom was a Democrat. Every time Mom and Dad went to the voting booth Mom would cancel out Dad’s vote. Now there will be no one to consistently cancel out Dad’s vote.

Bless us all.