Since we are packing up our house in anticipation of moving soon, I was going through some old records. I ran across the eulogy my brother wrote about our mother upon her passing a few years ago. It was so beautiful; I’d like to share it with anyone who reads this so you can learn a little about my wonderful family.
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My Mother was the last thread holding together the fabric of an era, where family was knit together; like a blanket that kept us warm on a cold night. An era that now lives only in the sweet and cherished memories of our childhoods.
My Mother was the last thread holding together a tapestry made up of traditions, patriotism and religious beliefs that were the very core of existence.
Together, my Grandparents and my Mother’s brothers and sisters carried on their traditions effortlessly, because it was who they were. But as each passed away, the weight of carrying these traditions became heavier for those remaining. And for almost a decade, my Mother had to carry them herself. Yet she never complained; but rather she lived them every day, because it was who she was… and with her passing, they are gone forever.
We all knew the side of my Mother that was ever upbeat and positive, always sincere with a kind word and a beautiful smile. And the way she became a part of each moment we shared with her. How she would feel what the people she loved were feeling, be it joy or sorrow, pleasure or pain. She would feel it with you and comfort or celebrate with us. Whatever it was we needed.
We all experienced and were inspired by her strength, her courage and her eternal optimism. Yet I knew and experienced another side that she kept hidden; one of tears, fears and frailty. One that was filled with sadness, because she was physically unable to do things for others. [Both her legs were amputated during her last few years.] It caused her great pain to ask anyone to do things for her. Yet her fear and frailty and sadness made her courage, bravery and strength all the more credible and inspirational. Because in spite of her fear and doubt, she carried on with a smile, and still was able to find joy in what she deemed most important – holding together the last thread of tradition of family.
My Mother often said that the years during the 2nd World War were among the best years of her life; a statement that is a tribute to the strength and perseverance of her generation. A generation that suffered through a depression and a world at war, yet through it all, earned the admiration of the world as heroes.
What an incredible woman, and what a rich life my Mother led. She nourished her appreciation of travel and nature. The sound of a rushing river could bring her to complete and total peace.
And she gave life to 4 children, 8 grandchildren and 13 great-grandchildren. 25 lives, each of us carrying the potential for unimaginable strength, courage and eternal dedication to the things we cherish most.
What my Mother represents is equal to the woman she was.
Comments
Thank you both for your nice comments. I am glad my blog touched you.
Thank you for sharing this with us Juile. This makes me think of my own mother. Such a beautiful post.
Outstanding article Julie! So inspiring and uplifting. You were truly blessed with such a mother. Thanks for sharing. Liked and Shared.