Long enough for it to have sunk in to some degree. Not nearly long enough to understand the full impact of what life will look like moving forward.
I've gone back and forth about whether to publish her eulogy here. I've decided to do it. There was nobody quite like Mom, and her life continues to touch others to this day. So, for just a glimpse at what my mother did for the world while she was in it... here you are:
Preparing.
It’s usually
difficult to describe someone using only one word, so difficult that most
wouldn’t even try. But Mom? She was the epitome of that word: preparing. In the
very active sense, in an ongoing manner, and in every area of her life.
Mom lived
her life preparing for things ahead. So much so, that many may have described
her as a catastrophizer, envisioning all the most unlikely and tragic outcomes
to any scenario – but this was only in an effort to prepare for and avoid any
problems before they became problems.
Growing up
the oldest of 4 children, Mom knew they never had a lot materially, yet she
always reminisced fondly on what a happy childhood and family she had. At her
core, she knew what was most important, and had a deep appreciation for the
meaning and beauty that could be found in the simplest pleasures. She brought
that core value to her family as an adult, preparing us to understand and
embrace the meaning of family above material things.
It’s no
secret to anyone who knows our family, that Mom often became the brunt of our
jokes. She always took it in stride, feigning offense, but laughing along with
us in the end. She was an easy target, and she knew it. And all of those
stories and jokes we had about her revolved around her life mission to be
prepared, for her family, for her loved ones, for God… her purpose was
ultimately about preparing those she loved for the important things in this
life, and the next. Whether it was
driving us 3 hours early to a standardized test, making lists for school
supplies in April, (making lists for EVERYTHING, actually), orchestrating her
7-Fish Dinner for Christmas Eve while cleaning up on Christmas Day (yes, 364
days in advance), writing instructions to remind us what to pack, and what to
do if we were going somewhere without her (these instructions became incredibly
detailed for Dad), putting all of OUR appointments on HER calendar, even when
we were adults, to ensure we never forgot anything important, or stocking her
pantry as if preparing for the apocalypse, Mom’s priority was to make things
comfortable, easy, and perfectly beautiful, for us.
One classic
story that will live on as long as her daughters do, is the Thanksgiving she
hesitantly agreed to attend at my home. Mom was the Ultimate Hostess, so having
her attend a major holiday somewhere she couldn’t prepare for every detail and
ensure perfection (as her holidays always were) was difficult for her! She finally
agreed, along with the offer to bring just about every side dish and dessert…
but then she heard that Jennifer planned to bring the pumpkin pie.
This of
course worried Mom, the planner. If Jennifer brought the pumpkin pie, a staple
for Thanksgiving, she couldn’t prepare for the outcomes. Jennifer was planning
to visit Laura in the city that morning for the parade, then give Laura a ride
to my house for dinner. Mom used this information to her advantage…
“Jennifer,
why don’t I just make the pumpkin pie. You’re going to New York that morning…
where do you plan on putting it while you’re at the parade??”
“Mom, it’s
fine, it’ll keep in the car. I can put it on the passenger’s seat.”
“But, you
have to drive Laura! What if she sits on it??!!”
As you can
imagine, we never let her live that one down. It’s one of many, many classic
quotes from my Mom that will go down in history for the P___ family, but
it’s also a perfect example of my Mom’s heart. More than anything, she wished
to make things, especially the important things, as perfect as possible for
those she loved. For my first hosted Thanksgiving, she wanted to make sure I
wasn’t missing any key side dishes or desserts, and that the holiday was a
success. For Dad, she brought the weird stuff only he will eat, like pearl
onions, so that his Thanksgiving was as traditional as always, despite the
change in venue. For Christine, she left a fridge stocked with fish at home just
in case, honoring the known fact Christine hates Thanksgiving dinner and
loathes turkey. For Jennifer and
Mackenzie’s trip to the city, she didn’t want it spoiled because they forgot
the pie, had to drive back to get it, and miss part of the parade as a result. And for Laura… well, she didn’t want her to
ruin her nice holiday outfit by sitting in a pie!!
That was
Mom. Preparing ahead for every detail, for others. Her life was in service to
her family and loved ones. Her vocation was as a wife and mother, and she took
to it like a force to be reckoned with. Her wants and needs were very simply to
prepare a home, and a good, holy life, for her husband and children.
Of course
it sounds simple, but in practice, there was never a moment’s rest. Every meal
home cooked, well-balanced (“I need a vegetable!” was a common meal prep utterance),
and served with intention (“Have more, come on, I made it special for you!”); a
home that was so organized, she had a specific “ribbon drawer” for gift
wrapping; a house so tidy and clean, you could quite literally eat off the
floor, unless she had just waxed them, in which case, you’d better stay far
away or you’d be sorry; landscaping and gardening that looked like it was
straight out of a magazine.
But amidst these household preparations was also a passionate
dedication to her children’s school and extra-curricular life, and a great
sentimentality for family history, childhood memories, and life experiences;
this made for incredibly touching and artistic scrapbooks, slideshows, and
gift-giving, as when it came to Mom, every single detail was thought out and
given a uniquely personal touch for the intended recipient.
While dealing with her diagnosis and
treatments earlier this year, her dear friend Valerie helped to organize meal
drop-offs for the family. Mom spent roughly two weeks researching and looking
online for the perfect thank you gift. “I can’t believe she’s doing all of
this – do you know she had a huge tree fall on her garage during the storm??
She’s dealing with so much, already…” she told us. “Mom. You have CANCER. I
think she’s more than happy to do this for you!” But that was Mom. Always
focused on the other.
Preparing
her home, and preparing all of the details that surrounded it was a daily,
sometimes hourly task that kept Mom living a purposeful life. The life she
loved – serving her family, friends- and God.
I read an
article that likened our Mother Church to Italian mothers. And it resonates all
too well, in Mom’s case. Part of it read:
“No
matter how terribly behaved her children are, Italian mammas always welcome
them back home. She can only stay mad at them for so long. She might hit you
with an umbrella first, or yell at you while gesticulating madly, but sooner or
later, somewhere in the drama, she will let you know one way or another that
you are loved and forgiven—probably by feeding you.
Like earthly mothers,
the Church offers great mercy to her prodigal children: first through
confession and penance to mend what is broken and then through an invitation to
join the family for a meal once again.”
Essentially, this is
precisely what Mom was all about. Her preparations weren’t merely Earthly ones.
Her focus, her priority, was on putting Christ at the center of her home and
family life. She lived out the Sacrament of Marriage, with Dad, more
beautifully, more steadfastly, and more lovingly than most people have ever had
the privilege to witness. Her role as wife superseded even her role as mother,
which she understood to be rightly ordered as their marriage was the foundation
of our family. Weekly mass attendance was obviously a given, but she also saw
to it that she frequented the confessional, and stressed to us all the
importance of this beautiful Sacrament of Reconciliation with God. Her rosary
beads were always at the ready, and prayed daily, while her scapular hung close
by her bed. Her devotion to the Divine Mercy, and its saving graces, was a
source of strength to her in some of her darkest moments. Her child-like love of
Our Lady started in her youth, and grew stronger as she discerned the religious
life as a teenager.
I think our family can
all say we are glad she received the calling to be a wife and mother, instead.
And that is exactly how
she lived it – as a calling. Putting her family’s needs first, preparing a road
for them all to heaven. Trying, as hard as she could, to shelter us from any
suffering that may come our way, but teaching us that no suffering is ever in
vain.
In fact, Mom taught us
all a lot, everyone who knew her, both through word and deed. Never a
hypocrite, she practiced exactly what she preached, and in her life lessons,
she was still preparing us for things ahead. She prepared us even for her
death, and dying. She knew her heavenly Father was calling her home long before
the rest of us were willing to accept it, and she began preparing both the
personal and the spiritual effects. “You know, it’s not going to be 6 months of
me like this,” she told me months ago. “I’m going to decline, and it’s going to
be hard to watch…” Of course, it was. But even in her dying, she was imparting a
beautiful lesson to those around her. Both her spirit and her body were strong,
as the yearning for heaven was undeniable, but her body still fought on. Her
nurses remarked on how strong she was, to the very end.
All preparations are now complete. Welcome Home, Mom.
3 comments:
Beautiful Amy. What a gift you had such a wonderful mom. I’m so sorry that you had to say goodbye too soon.
I am sorry Amy.I heard one priest saying that when his own mother (he believed she was a saint) passed away he asked God to give him so many graces to compensate the loss of his mother and God was very generous to him. God fullfilled his life in a way he never could imagine to. I pray that God will do this for you and your whole family as well. Lord have mercy and thank You for everything You do in our lives in advance
My deepest sympathies, Amy.
When my own dad died, I realized heaven was probably not the far away place I used to think it was.
"these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love".
I once heard that in heaven, faith & hope are no longer 'needed' in the same way (since one will actually see the God hoped for); making the remaining virtue: overwhelming love. This has helped me understand why I can feel my dad's love.
Heaven and your mom are not far - I pray you are able to feel their loving embrace.
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