My Mother's Eulogy

None of us thought we would be here today. When death comes in such a sudden and shocking way, people gather like this and think to themselves, “Wow. How did this happen? What are we doing here?” Believe me, as we’ve spent a few days soaking in the events of last week, that thought has troubled us all. Never did we think that my mom’s young life would end so abruptly or so soon.

Now we must gather ourselves and keep moving. We will think of her always, and we will never forget how her life touched each of us. My mom was a loving and caring person, and those of us here can each think of a time that my mom reached out to you, cared for you, or gave you even the slightest reason to smile. That is what we are here to remember today. The wonderful person that my mother was.


As I started to piece together all the things I wanted to say about my mom today, there was one theme – really one word – that kept running through my head: devotion. Above all – more than anything else – my mom was devoted. If you knew her at all, she was very much an ‘all or nothing’ person . . . she had no medium, no half-way, no in between. She was devoted to every single thing she did and to every person she loved,. Devoted in ways that nobody else can even imagine.



When I was a child, she was devoted to me. Starting with how she care for me as a baby – she did things for her baby that maybe all mom’s didn’t do, she didn’t care at all what anyone thought. She was determined to care for me in the way that she thought was the absolute best. She made sure that I learned how to swim shortly after I learned to walk. We moved from coast to coast, and she dedicated herself to the research it took to find the best schools, the best neighborhoods . . . I always came first for her.

I have memories of going to the library with her as she dedicated herself to my own learning. Going to Knotts Berry Farm and riding in a roller coaster with the Snoopy character . . . the park employees told her that wasn’t possible, but she did not stop asking and hounding them until they made it happen. I have memories of going to a local Arby’s restaurant with my mom for ‘kids night’ each and every week until I had collected every character in a set of kids meal toys they were giving away. She’d take me ‘back to school’ shopping and buy me all the ‘trendy’ things she knew that I wanted, and she knew she’d have to deal with explaining it all to my dad when we got home. But she didn’t care . . . she was devoted to making sure that I was happy. A Christmas List to her was like a scavenger hunt. She loved it . . . she’d work the entire month of December to find any particular item that I had requested. She was always devoted to me, her only daughter, who she called ‘Angel Cake’ and ‘Pussy Cat.’

Our family . . . we called ourselves the Three Musketeers. And as I was growing up, we certainly were. And nobody knew what it was like to be us. We went to Las Vegas together, to Key West, to Mammoth Mountain in California, to Atlantic City, New York City, to Lake Tahoe, to Disney World. We drove across country, me, my mom, and my dad, three different times. We did things and went places, the three of us, that my friends never had a chance to do as children. In those times, we were devoted to each other . . . all of us. Our family had a Christmas Eve tradition that included opening just one present before going to bed . . . and over the years, we’d end up opening nearly our whole stash because we were having so much fun together. We enjoyed football games, fireworks, and local craft shows. The three of us were a very tight little family – I can even remember waking up the morning after my first prom and pulling my hairpins out of my hair as I sat at the foot of my parents bed, telling them all about the excitement of the night before. And even as I grew and left to start my own family, I still hold on to those things that were so important to the three of us. We will hold on to them, my dad and I, as we move on without my mom here with us to share in our lives.


As much as she was devoted to me and our family as a whole, my mother was devoted to my dad even more. Her love and devotion to him really cannot be put into words. Through their entire 35 years of marriage, she stood right by him. He had cancer three times, and she was always concerned that he was getting the best medical care possible. He had several jobs throughout the years, and she was always there to support his decisions – even when they meant a move to California, New Hampshire, or Georgia. My mother was devoted to keeping a home for my father – and I think even he took for granted how much homemaking work she did in her devotion to him. And when it came to passions my dad had – mainly football, of course – she was devoted to them, too. Her closet was full of Aqua and Orange though the 70s, 80s, and 90s . . . until I went to Georgia, and the dedication switched to the boys of Red and Black. She really did take pleasure in watching football with my dad because she knew how much it made HIM happy.


My mother loved my father with every ounce of her body. She never wanted to be without him. They met in January of 1974, were married that August, and have hardly been apart since. My mother slept horribly when he was not tucked in beside her. She needed him. I believe heavily in divine intervention, and I’ve come to realize that it is probably a good thing that God took her first . . . I don’t think she could have lived without him.


I think we all know that the love and dedication my mother felt toward my father was reciprocated 100%. My father loved my mother so very much, through all of their highs and their lows. They were rocks for each other. When times were grand, they rode the ride, hand in hand, sharing in each moment of their combined happiness. When the world might have felt like it was crumbling around them, there they stood – ready to face it with one another, side by side.


Thirty five years is an eternity for a marriage . . . it goes without saying that their marriage stood the test of time. And now that God has taken my mother first, I pray for my dad to have peace and happiness for himself as his life here continues. They will be together again some day, in a place where they will experience more joy together than they ever could have on this earth.


She was devoted to our family, without question . . . but my mother’s undeniable devotion to things in her life must have started in her school years because my mom was nothing short of brilliant. She was so, so smart. She taught herself to use the computer, to sew, to knit the beautiful items you’ve seen, organized large scale events for us all to enjoy. She was devoted to figuring anything out . . . any task or obstacle you gave her became like a game to her. And just when you might have given up on her and thought, “Well, maybe this is something Nancy can’t figure out or can’t pull off . . .” she’d amaze you. Just last week, she was so unbelievably proud of herself for repairing my dad’s computer . . . something she worked on for days and days to accomplish. I thought the poor outdated thing was simply dead . . . until I got an email from her, indicating that she had found new life in that old thing.


I’m sure you’ve all gotten a phone call or two from my mom when she was all happy and giddy about something like that – you can remember exactly how she sounded. She would crack you up with her own excitement. My aunts tell that, as a kid, me she was just like that all the time -- always the life of the party. She was so bubbly and happy – so full of personality and passion. They called her Cookie growing up because she was just so cute and sweet.

My mother was passionate about so many things over the years. She loved to listen to talk radio and argue with my dad about the liberal vs. conservative views. She loved cheese, shrimp, pepsi, coffee . . . her favorite foods were simple, but her love of them was great. A lot of the things she loved were simple – a few particular TV shows or even just going to the dog races – but she loved them just the same. She always asked for Chanel #5 for any holiday occasion – or Bath and Body Works lotions and sprays. She took great pleasure in long baths with sweet smelling products.

Thanksgiving brought out the very best in her . . . she was always dedicated to making a meal to top the one she’d made the year before. She would plan and plan those November meals for days – weeks even – then eat and retire to bed, happy about what she had done for everyone that day. Halloween ran a close second to her love for Thanksgiving because she so enjoyed decorating the house, getting just the right candy for the neighborhood. and seeing all the adorable Trick-or-Treaters. On both occasions, she devoted herself to other people’s happiness.

Lately, she really had found a true love for knitting and crocheting. Making blankets and simple outfits for my girls was something that took many, many hours but brought her much joy in the process. As a matter of fact, I know she’s disappointed that she won’t be here to make more for my kids as they grow. But we’ll hold tight to the beautiful things she’s made. My girls will know that Nana Nancy (as Meg called her) made those items just for them.


My mother – devoted not only to me and my dad, but to many of you here this evening – will be missed. You’ll miss her dedicated friendship to you, I know you will. I miss her as my caring mother, my girls will miss their Nana, and my father misses his dear wife.

Her death is shock to us all. It does not seem fair that at only 56 years old, her time is up. But my dad and I know she is happy now. Not happy like she was here – but truly, undeniably happy. She is in God’s loving embrace, surrounded by her mother and father, in a place where she can be herself without a care or a worry. And now she can devote her time to herself, enjoying the place where she is finally at peace.