For Mom

As I mentioned the other day, in my first post about Mom's passing, I thought I'd use it as a starter for her eulogy.

I did.

Below is my draft.

This is a day we all knew would come.  Death, of course, is inevitable.  And in Mom’s case, though she was a fighter, she was medically fragile.  CHF, COPD, Pulmonary HTN, Macular Degeneration and more wore her down over time.  The last few times we saw her, several of us commented on how tired she looked.  

The end of life, by it’s nature, tends to be sad for those of us left behind.  But, it doesn’t have to be.  I remember, several years ago at the funeral for my Aunt Pearl, the priest said - 

“Some deaths are a tragedy, some deaths are a blessing.  And Pearl’s is a blessing.” 

He was referring to the way cancer ravaged her, how her physical pain was over now and she was finally at peace.  That always stuck with me.  But I’m not here today to get all philosophical with you.  I think most of you know me well enough to know that’s not my strong suit.  

Instead, I’d like to tell you about the time Mom took me to Driver’s Ed class.  She drove.  I was only 15 and on a learner’s permit, she couldn’t possibly trust me with something so important as to drive the mile and a half to Central High School for my class.  My Driver’s Ed class.  So I could learn how to drive.  About 150 yards out of our driveway, Mom drove into a wheat field.  On the way to my Driver’s Ed class.  No damage done to the car or us, she drove back onto the road and finished driving me to school.  For my Driver’s Ed class.  

We were all close to Mom, of course.  In fact, John was so close to Mom, on his first day of kindergarten, when Mom walked him to school, he followed her back home.  He’d rather hang out with Mom, than go to school.  

He’d definitely have had better snacks.

Mom was an outstanding cook.  And she made so many things that are ingrained into all of our recipe rotations.  Potato Salad, Cowboy Dish, my personal favorite - Pinwheels.  Mom didn’t pay much attention to the healthy cooking movement.  If gravy was currency, Mom would be Bill Gates.  But good Lord it tasted great. 

After Dad died, Teri and Penny took many road trips with Mom.  Branson, MO was a favorite place, and they went out to southern California to find where Dad’s parents ranch used to be.  Somehow, they managed to get Mom on airplanes.  She hated to fly.  

She was a nervous traveler in any mode.  Any family member that ever drove Mom anywhere will tell you that, despite vision that prevented her from seeing someone standing 2 feet in front of her clearly enough to identify them, she still “saw” cars, deer, potholes, tractors, children, police cars, you name the threat and she “saw” it and warned you of it.  Most of us learned to apply the phrase Dad used many times...

“Do you want to drive?”

...and that, with a chuckle, would end her attempts at helping us drive.  At least, temporarily.

As far back as I can remember, though I don’t know why, I’ve been told I was Mom’s favorite.  I mean, I don’t blame her.  If I was Mom, I’d make me her favorite too.  But as I grew into the role and all it entailed, I got to spend a lot of quality time with her over the years. 

And we’d talk often about the old days and how much fun we all had growing up.  

And the talk always turned to how much she missed Dad.

“I miss him everyday.” she’d say.  “He was a good old guy.” she’d say.

As Kathi and I were driving home from the hospital in Rockford about 1:00 Monday morning, we talked about Mom.  I really wasn’t too sad, like I said, she was tired.  And to be honest, I’d been preparing myself for that drive home from the hospital for years, just didn’t know which hospital or when it would happen.  I was, however, worried that Mom passing away on Christmas, a day that’s supposed to be about the joy of the season,  would create heartache for some of us.  

Then Kathi said something, that really put the day’s events in perspective for me.  She pointed out that Mom had spent the last two days with almost all of her 16 grandkids and 28 great-grandkids, something she adored doing.  And then, she got to spend Christmas night with Dad.  After 17 years, they were together again.  What better gift could Mom ask for?

We should all be so lucky.  

I hope she likes it.  I think she will.

Merry Christmas El, it's not what we originally gave you for Christmas, but this is now more appropriate than a gift certificate to your local casino.

I Love You.