My Eulogy for Mom
I gave this incredibly insufficient eulogy at my mom's funeral in November, and since her birthday is coming up, I want to put it on my blog.
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What is heaven like? Many people have attempted to answer this question over the course of mankind's history. Recently, a poet wrote "Just Imagine," a song about what it might be like to finally meet Jesus: Would we fall down on our knees? Would we be overwhelmed? Would we be comfortable enough to thank Him? I am more moved by the thought of angels dancing or beautiful celestial music of a perfect orchestra and chorus. Sometimes I imagine a formal, white robed God saying "Well done, my good and faithful servant." Other times I can see bright beautiful colors and loved ones' faces. It's all so personal, isn't it? I mean, don't you think it might be different for everyone?
My mom suffered increasing pain over many years, culminating in the final weeks and days. How much can one person bear? We are, after all, only human. How strong are we supposed to be?
The most amazing thing she is feeling right now is the freedom from pain. She is without that constant companion on her journey.
Mom never had it easy. She had many difficult days: her father's alcoholism and absence and sudden short return; her brother's untimely, but brave, death serving his and our country; her struggle to have children; the loss of her dear mother; her home and possessions being destroyed; her only son meeting an accidental death at nineteen; and her unfruitful visit to the Mayo Clinic.
She had the gift of God's grace, though. Yes, all these terrible events affected her outlook on the world. I understand that. I, too, feel that lack of control, that careening feeling of the other shoe dropping too often.
God gave her His grace. He allowed her a holy suffering and a right to His Kingdom. She believed!
Because of this, she is now hugging Michael and telling Auntie Helen what's been on her mind. She is celebrating her arrival in heaven, and gathering all our loved ones into the glorious dance with the Lord.
I will miss her presence. Her sense of humor, which she seemed to pass on to my children somehow. The love that blazed out of those bright blue eyes will be with me until I no longer walk this earth.
I don't want to leave the impression that her life was all sadness and tears. It was not! I remember the joy she had for each of her grandchildren. Her joy at Elena's birth was without limits. I believe she never thought she'd have a grandchild at all...and here was her little precious one. Tony was a special joy, too. Not only was he a boy, but at the time of his birth she was not sure she'd live to see him. And Emma...Emma's her bonus round--her icing on the cake.
My husband, Anthony, was great source of amusement for her. Somehow, he always made her laugh and she loved him the very first second she saw him.
Helen understood mom the best and recognized her strength the most. Perhaps it went back to when Helen was born...such a colickly baby that 40 years later I can still hear her fussing. Mom spent many hours just walking with this baby that never seemed to stop yelling. Finally, Auntie Helen or the doctor told her to give the baby Coca-Cola. It was MAGIC...and Helen never forgot.
And then there's Atlantic City...what a great distraction from everything. She loved all of her trips there, even the difficult ones. And of course, Dad dragged her all over the country when she was younger. It must have been something to have your first baby in New Mexico with your family in Pennsylvania.
Dad...the wind beneath everyone's wings. Her rock...her best friend...the love of her life. The other day, Elena looked at a picture of Dad when he was in the service and stated that "Gee, Pop-Pop--you're buff!" I know Mom thought the same thing. They are an example of everlasting love. Corinthians tells us that love never fails. I know this to be true from watching them.
God, You've held her in the palm of Your hand, You've given her Your grace, You've sent Mary Your Mother to keep her company. I thank you for this. Now take her into Your Kingdom--where all is sweetness, light and joy and where Catherine Ann Clocker Yanulus, good and faithful servant, can live forever.
I gave this incredibly insufficient eulogy at my mom's funeral in November, and since her birthday is coming up, I want to put it on my blog.
******************************************************
What is heaven like? Many people have attempted to answer this question over the course of mankind's history. Recently, a poet wrote "Just Imagine," a song about what it might be like to finally meet Jesus: Would we fall down on our knees? Would we be overwhelmed? Would we be comfortable enough to thank Him? I am more moved by the thought of angels dancing or beautiful celestial music of a perfect orchestra and chorus. Sometimes I imagine a formal, white robed God saying "Well done, my good and faithful servant." Other times I can see bright beautiful colors and loved ones' faces. It's all so personal, isn't it? I mean, don't you think it might be different for everyone?
My mom suffered increasing pain over many years, culminating in the final weeks and days. How much can one person bear? We are, after all, only human. How strong are we supposed to be?
The most amazing thing she is feeling right now is the freedom from pain. She is without that constant companion on her journey.
Mom never had it easy. She had many difficult days: her father's alcoholism and absence and sudden short return; her brother's untimely, but brave, death serving his and our country; her struggle to have children; the loss of her dear mother; her home and possessions being destroyed; her only son meeting an accidental death at nineteen; and her unfruitful visit to the Mayo Clinic.
She had the gift of God's grace, though. Yes, all these terrible events affected her outlook on the world. I understand that. I, too, feel that lack of control, that careening feeling of the other shoe dropping too often.
God gave her His grace. He allowed her a holy suffering and a right to His Kingdom. She believed!
Because of this, she is now hugging Michael and telling Auntie Helen what's been on her mind. She is celebrating her arrival in heaven, and gathering all our loved ones into the glorious dance with the Lord.
I will miss her presence. Her sense of humor, which she seemed to pass on to my children somehow. The love that blazed out of those bright blue eyes will be with me until I no longer walk this earth.
I don't want to leave the impression that her life was all sadness and tears. It was not! I remember the joy she had for each of her grandchildren. Her joy at Elena's birth was without limits. I believe she never thought she'd have a grandchild at all...and here was her little precious one. Tony was a special joy, too. Not only was he a boy, but at the time of his birth she was not sure she'd live to see him. And Emma...Emma's her bonus round--her icing on the cake.
My husband, Anthony, was great source of amusement for her. Somehow, he always made her laugh and she loved him the very first second she saw him.
Helen understood mom the best and recognized her strength the most. Perhaps it went back to when Helen was born...such a colickly baby that 40 years later I can still hear her fussing. Mom spent many hours just walking with this baby that never seemed to stop yelling. Finally, Auntie Helen or the doctor told her to give the baby Coca-Cola. It was MAGIC...and Helen never forgot.
And then there's Atlantic City...what a great distraction from everything. She loved all of her trips there, even the difficult ones. And of course, Dad dragged her all over the country when she was younger. It must have been something to have your first baby in New Mexico with your family in Pennsylvania.
Dad...the wind beneath everyone's wings. Her rock...her best friend...the love of her life. The other day, Elena looked at a picture of Dad when he was in the service and stated that "Gee, Pop-Pop--you're buff!" I know Mom thought the same thing. They are an example of everlasting love. Corinthians tells us that love never fails. I know this to be true from watching them.
God, You've held her in the palm of Your hand, You've given her Your grace, You've sent Mary Your Mother to keep her company. I thank you for this. Now take her into Your Kingdom--where all is sweetness, light and joy and where Catherine Ann Clocker Yanulus, good and faithful servant, can live forever.
posted by Reading Reader | 3:54 PM
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