Goodbye my Mom

This was the Eulogy that I gave at my Mom's memorial, a week after she died in May. I wanted to put it on my Blog to keep it safe. I am struggling with the font and spacing as it was copied and pasted directly from the original. It is not perfect and doesn't look pretty, but it is the content that matters.

Before I start, I would just like to say thank you so much on behalf of my whole family to every one of you for coming here today to honour the memory of my Mom and to show support. For those who are grieving I hope that today provides some comfort.
It took me a long time to actually sit down to write this. I think I kept putting it off because I felt the longer I did, the longer I could still hang on to the notion that the last 3 weeks was just a terrible dream and I would wake up and there my Mom would be smiling at me saying that familiar phrase 'hey my Muis!'. But there comes a time when denial needs to be put aside and acceptance needs to start to take its place.

My Mom and I had a typical mom and daughter relationship. I adored her until I was 13, she just 'didn't understand me' from age 13 to 17, and from age 17 to 19 of course I knew better than her! But, as I’ve grown older I began to understand a mothers motivation, and it all started to make sense. No time more so than when I had children of my own. I realised that the fierce adoration a child has for its parents when they are young is a gift, I am learning that a teenager will be seriously hard work but I will just have to leave them to it and love them anyway, and I know as they get older they may feel they know better but it is my job to gently guide them no matter what. I learned all that from my Mom.

My Mom and my relationship got really close the day I gave birth to my sweet girl Erin Marie, who is now almost 10 years old. My Mom adored my little girl as she was born and she started to create the most beautiful, close bond the minute they were first together. It's a bond that I think Erin will hang on to for the rest of her life. My Mom was amazing. She took on taking care of Erin nearly every day from the day I had to go back to work until she was old enough to attend nursery school. The patience, kindness, sacrifice and love will never be forgotten and always admired. Even though my Mom needed a lighter load by the time my Seany was born, she still was always available at a drop of a hat to bail me out. I could have a sick, screaming child (or 2) in the back of the car and need to be at a work meeting at 7.30 and still I could be calm. I knew that I could just pick up the phone, scream through to Douglasdale no questions asked and my Mom would make it all better. And I’d make it to my meeting pretty much on time.

Even though I now live in the UK, my Mom and I chatted nearly every day and we also had fierce online Scrabble battles (I very rarely won)! She was a whizz on her iPad and we could while away hours just bouncing messages back and forth, solving all the problems of the world and usually having a really really good laugh through it all. For those that knew my Mom well, I'm sure you knew of her wonderful humour and her hilarious sense of the ridiculous. We knew how to make each other feel better by being silly and laughing. I think often my husband Steve thought I was quite mad, sitting quietly bashing on my iPad and fairly regularly issuing a snorting laugh out of the blue. My Mom was hilarious. Right up until very close to the time when my mom left us, she maintained that sense of humour and we still laughed. It was a gift.

I was very privileged to be able to spend the last 2 weeks of my Mom’s time on earth with her. It was one of the hardest and most painful times I have ever endured, but at the same time so precious. We managed to have some wonderful chats and in one of the more heartfelt conversations she said something that really stuck with me. She said something like 'you know Muis, I do worry that I have led such a small life'. Well my Mom, I hope you can see all the people that are here today and all those that couldn't be here but who are with us in thought to honour you. You led a much bigger life than you realised. I think every person you ever met was touched by your soft presence, your ladylike way, your humour and the wonderful sparkle in your eye. People felt welcome and at home with you.

I have said it much over the past few weeks, but I was in awe of the way my Mom conducted herself over the last few weeks. Her immense bravery, fierce dignity and ever present humour was an inspiration. And through all of it, all she could really think of was to make sure everyone else was going to be ok. I know that if I can go forward and live my life trying to be even a quarter of who she was and express my Mom’s qualities, especially as they shone through in the last weeks of her life with us, I know I will be doing a very good job.

I'm learning that grief is an intensely personal road. There is no wrong or right way. And some people get on that highway and get straight to their destination, others go the back route and get lost a bit and need a few pit stops.

I'm still struggling to understand why this had to happen. But out of something truly terrible, there is usually something good. And I just have to say that I am immensely proud of my brave, funny Dad; my strong brothers who both came forward and did EXACTLY what was needed when it was needed; my wonderful husband who through his own grief has kept everything going at home in the UK and been a wonderful support; my sister in law Lee who also through immense sadness has just been a constant helping hand, all the grandchildren who loved her so much and are being so brave and all the other extended family members and friends who know who they are for all their support and love. My Mom’s illness and passing has brought us all much much closer than before. We all seem to have found each other again, for this I am so grateful to my Mom. And because of that fact, my Dad, I know in my heart that you will be ok in the end. You have all of these people here today, and all of the rest of us just a plane ride away to be there for you. Never forget that. You will not be alone.

I will miss my Mom more than words can describe, and I think the reality of this all will possibly only hit home when I return to the UK on Saturday. But, I know with absolute certainty that she is not gone. She is with me all the time, and she keeps telling me.... 'Hey my Muis! I'm ok!'.

Fly with the angels my mom x