Remembering my Mom (What I Was Honored to Share at Her Funeral)

This is the eulogy that I gave at Grandma's (my mom's) funeral yesterday.  We paid tribute to her with about 700 friends and family at her visitation and a full church at her funeral.  It was really moving to see how she had touched so many lives deeply and sweetly.  She was a truly special person in all of our lives:

My mom was a giver in the truest sense of the word. She loved on people daily, hourly. She loved on them with her caring, listening ear, her renowned pies, the doll clothes she sewed for her granddaughters, the way she proudly cuddled her grandson, the way she loved on my brother and me, raising us with wisdom and kindness and absolutely unconditional love, the way she welcomed her son-in-law and daughter-in-law into the family as her kids 

and learned to cook new recipes just so that she could brighten their day with their favorite foods, the way she did so many things for my dad without even thinking about it, the way she cared about and for her parents and my dad’s parents, the way she loved on her brothers and lit up when they called, the way she loved on her sisters-in-law and nieces and nephews and church family by taking such an interest in their lives, the way she was more than a teacher to students and more than a coworker to colleagues--she pulled for them, wanted the best for each of them, thought of anything she could do to help them, the way she hurt for friends who hurt, the way she found so many ways to help her family, friends, and community. My mom was always looking for chances to enrich our lives. She often filled our fridge with fresh produce from her garden and home cooking from her kitchen. She mended our clothes, cared for our children, and made sure we continually had farm fresh eggs. She was extremely considerate of always being a blessing and never inconveniencing, giving so selflessly. My husband very sweetly says that I am a big walking heart, and if I am, I owe it to the example my mom set for me. Right after my mom died, my dad paid me a tremendous compliment by saying, “It’s a good thing that there’s a lot of your mom in you.” I only hope that that is true, because not just on her funeral day, but every single day, I can say that I was proud to call her my mother.

My mom was able to donate her eyes, which seems perfect, because she had the vision to see the best in others and would want to help someone in need. She lived by the principle of “waste not, want not.” She was frugal by nature, delighting in a good coupon or a great sale...better yet, both together. Still, she was incredibly generous with others, wasting not so that she could share so much. She also espoused, “Do onto others as you would have them do onto you.” Though she thought this, she only really expected the first part out of herself. She did onto others so very well, but she expected so little in return. The very last time I saw my mom, she did so much for me. I am guessing there are many people in this room that can say that the last time they saw her, she served them in some way. She put so much of her heart into mothering, teaching, grandparenting, and serving at this church. In each of these roles, she was such a gift.

She had a really fun sense of humor. Though she was very responsible in many ways, she was also a big kid in others. She loved to call her seven brothers and tell them she was their favorite sister, to laugh with us over the silliest things until tears ran down her cheeks. She would pick up my dad’s stud finder, grab his arm, and say, “Beep, beep. I found mine.”

My mom loved the color blue, sitting outside together on the Adirondack chairs enjoying the peacefulness of the countryside, kissing and cuddling my dad, eating Conant’s quesadillas, enjoying the Bohle Christmases, watching a hummingbird outside her living room window, telling me about what was on her mind and heart, loving on her grandchildren, making sure others felt comfortable and encouraged, and reveling in each chance our whole family had to be together.

Her voice was filled with such excitement when she knew she would be seeing her kids or grandkids or meeting a friend for lunch. I could literally hear her bubbling enthusiasm when she reported to me the joy of her day ahead. She would write me letters and emails which included many of the smallest details of her day. I cherish these.

My aunt recently mentioned how my mom was the center of our family, and that was so true, both for our family of ten and for the extended family. My mom had such an authentic humility about her, and she was definitely a servant leader. She had a way of bringing people together, taking care of so many things, and never taking credit for any of it. This week, many people have told me that my mom is the kindest person they have ever known. I feel extremely grateful that I was given such a caring woman to grow inside of from my very beginning, to receive invaluable guidance and love from as I grew up, and then to grow into such a precious friend of mine when I became a woman. After having eight brothers, marrying someone with two brothers, and having my older brother, she was quite amazed to have me, a girl. She loved the men in her life and my brother so much, but I’ve been told that she enthusiastically proclaimed, “I’m going to sew for her!” when she was surprised with a daughter. And sew for me she did, both clothes and a close-knit relationship.

Truth be told, I would never have been ready to say “goodbye” to my mom, certainly not this soon and with such a tragedy. It is unfathomable that she will not be here with our family and our friends. We do give thanks that she is in heaven, that she knew she would go there by grace, and that we will be reunited someday. Still, there is a hole in each of our hearts that will never be filled here on earth. The fact that her grandchildren are richer for having known her is heartwarming but also heartbreaking, in that they will be so much poorer for not having her weekly visits, her daily prayers. She read hundreds of books to them, played so many games, had such a sweet relationship with them that they cheered her arrival at our home and couldn’t wait to visit her at hers. My mom told me that being a grandma was absolutely the best thing ever.

I am so grateful we were able to move back and spend this time with her. My girls cherish their grandma. Five-year-old Emma Grace has inherited my mom’s thoughtful heart, making a card for me on the day Mom died that read, “I hope you feel the same way I do. I’m so sad that your mom died.” Three-year-old Lily Rebecca bears her name and her grandma’s fun, silly sense of humor.

My mom often said that she couldn’t ever imagine retiring. Just weeks after her first grandchild, Emma, was born, she quickly changed her mind.

I don’t know how all of the details work, but it brings me a small measure of comfort to imagine my mom in heaven, cradling the two babies that we lost to miscarriage in her lap. If anyone could be Super-Grandma to infinity and beyond, it would be her.

When we were young, my mom mostly stayed home with us while teaching part-time, and my brother and I are so grateful for the tremendous amount of time we were able to spend with her. I remember her making us homemade breakfasts every morning, praying with me every night. Her Sunday night homemade pizza continued to be Jason’s and my most requested meal into adulthood. I hope I can always recall the taste of her pizza perfection.

She made beautiful quilts for her children and grandchildren, as well as for impoverished people abroad. We have so many tangible reminders of her in our life…things she’s sewed,

quilts she’s given, notes she’s written, even food she made. She left a fresh pecan pie in the refrigerator that we found Thursday, cut into pieces, and froze for Dad to have eight sweet reminders of how very much she loved him.

I’ve told many people that my mom is like Superwoman. She just had a knack for doing so many things well.

I spoke to my mom on the phone daily…more often like two, three, or four times a day. She was my mom, my best girlfriend, and my absolutely biggest fan, cheering for me in my triumphs and hurting for me so deeply when any adversity would come my way. Thankfully, we mostly had much to celebrate together, but we were authentic about our feelings and could talk about so much. Every time we said “goodbye” in person, we hugged, thanked each other, and expressed our love. We ended every call with “I love you,” and there were not words unspoken between us. Still, I know that every time my girls do something cute, or I have a question about a recipe or stain removal or life in general, I will feel the deep loss of not being able to call her. Every time we gather as a family, there will be someone priceless missing, and we will feel that acutely. I ask for your prayers for all who knew her, her parents who have lost a child, her brothers who have lost a sibling, the rest of our family who has lost a loved one, her friends who have lost someone so dear, and for her kids and grandkids, whose lives will never be the same. With all of my heart, I ask that you pray for and support my dad, who has lost his best friend, helpmate, love of his life.

Our hearts are broken at having lost my mom, but we are so grateful to have my dad, who is such a man of faith, family, integrity, and generosity. He and my mom’s commitment to one another, to death do them part, was an inspiration to my brother and me, and their love lives on in our own marriages and in my dad’s heart.

So today, I want to thank you so much for your friendship to our family, for how you made my mom’s time here on earth richer. I want to ask that as you leave here, you are inspired by my mom’s example as we have been, to live big in love, rich in faith, generous in spirit. My husband has said many times over the years, “If everyone was raised by Rebecca Jane, this world would be a much better place.” Please go out and hug your loved ones, help one another, actively make this world a more beautiful place…many of us have much work to do to even try to begin to fill the gap of all the ways my mom brightened it.