November 02, 2010

Happy Birthday Memorial

Today is my mother-in-law's birthday. Although she's no longer alive to celebrate it, I will always remember this as the day she was born.

Below is the eulogy I delivered at her funeral in June of 2007. I miss her very much and think of her every day. Thank you for celebrating her birthday with me.


My mother-in-law’s favorite song was The Girl From Ipanema. It's a beautiful bossa nova song that tells of a young woman's daily walk through town to the ocean, and how everyone who saw her was struck by her vibrance and carefree attitude.

The song was first popular at a wonderful time in Louise’s life, when she herself was that girl... a happy, carefree young woman whose faith and family were the center of her life. She lived near her parents and her sister Jean and a large assortment of cousins, aunts, and uncles.

Almost every weekend someone celebrated a birthday or a wedding or a baptism or a first communion... there was always a party in the works, and Louise loved parties.

She often walked along the water at Charlotte Beach eating ice cream and talking with her friends or meeting new people.

Louise was a newlywed at the time. She and Louie were introduced by her friend Agnes, and they married in May of 1959, when Louise was just 20 years old.

As the years unfolded, Louise took great pride in being a mother and homemaker. She was an excellent cook. She carefully selected the finest furnishings for her home. She was extremely fashion-conscious, and she made sure that her two sons, David and Dennis, were raised in the Catholic faith.

Even when time and circumstance took the vitality from Louise's earthly body, she held onto her youthful spirit. She never stopped seeing herself as the girl in the song, even when the rest of us did.

When someone is ill for a long period of time, as Louise was, the illness requires so much of us that it's easy to lose sight of the person living the life. But we gathered at the funeral home last night, and we're here today, to celebrate the person that Louise was, so I'd like to recall that with you.

Louise's favorite colors were pink and orange. The brighter the better.

Her favorite season was summer. It was never too hot for her.

Louise never drank milk. She liked her coffee cold. And her favorite drink was pineapple soda.

She was fascinated with the pyramids, and she loved Egyptian art.

She was a tireless shopper. One of her favorite pastimes was searching out the perfect gift for someone she cared about.

She also loved watching old movies, and she had perfect recall of Hollywood trivia from the 40's and 50's.

Louise was most content with her mother’s cooking, a good cup of coffee and her family around her.

Louise brought my husband into the world, and I will always love her for that.

A few days ago we packed up my mother-in-law’s belongings, and at one point I was overcome with sadness, and I asked God, “How did this happen? Where did her life go? How can it be that it all comes down to a pink hairbrush and half a lipstick?”

Then I opened the top drawer of her nightstand and I saw the collection of birthday cards, prayer cards, Mother’s Day cards, Christmas, Easter and “Just Thinking of You” cards that we had given Louise over the years. She kept them within reach of her bed, so that even when she could no longer get out of bed, she held her family close.

Then one of the nurses who had cared for Louise came into the room with tears and a big hug and told me how much she was going to miss Louise. Then another came in, and another, and another… and within a few minutes the room was full of people eager to share their favorite story of my mother-in-law or recount the last conversation they had with her or tell me how much Louise enjoyed the weekly visits with her family.

I believe that was God's reminder that Louise's life has not ended. It has merely changed form.

I like to think that now that she is relieved of the illness and physical suffering that marked her last years, my mother-in-law is free to once again be young and vibrant and carefree... the girl from Ipanema.

Happy Birthday, Mom B. We miss you!




August 19, 2010

I Was Wrong. I Admit It.

Boys and girls are different in many ways.

"Picky eaters" aren't always created by indulgent parenting. Sometimes they really are born selective.

A determined 17 month-old can scale a 12-foot maple tree.

I do have love and time and room for two kids.

Climbing the stairs, turning around, sliding down on your belly, and doing it all again is, in fact, a splendid way to spend an hour.

A 17 month-old who can scale a 12-foot maple tree can also manage to reach a full carton of eggs on the far side of the back seat without ever unbuckling his car seat.

A five year-old who understands what a tampon dispenser is may not understand that we don't ask every stranger who comes in "Do you need to use a tampon today?"

Life can be this good.




June 21, 2010

Simon Definitely Doesn't Say

I thought the best thing about playing Paul Simon in the car was hearing my almost five year-old belt out, If ya took all the girls I knew when I was single... and brought 'em all together for one night...

Then she hit the chorus:
Mama, don't take my boat home,
Mama, don't take my boat home,
Mama, don't take my boat home awaaaaay.


Another priceless moment.