Mom passed away peacefully on the afternoon of June 27. My dad and I were with her when she died, and it really couldn't have been a better death, all things considered. As a former hospice nurse, I think she would "approve". She simply took a deep breath and then just stopped breathing.
The following few days were a whirlwind, planning for the funeral, which we had on July 3. A lot of family and friends came to show their support, which was very comforting. Jason and I put together a slideshow video that chronicled her life. It really was touching and turned out nicely. You can watch it
here. Unfortunately, due to copyright laws, I couldn't include all of the songs in the video, but the songs were: In My Life (Beatles), Daydream Believer (Anne Murray) and I Could Never Say Goodbye (Anne Murray).
I spoke at the funeral, as did my dad. My dad's speech detailed how he met my mom, and how that day was the luckiest of his life. Surely it was the luckiest of my mom's as well, considering the way he took care of her over the past years.
I want to put our speeches in here, because I believe that they are both so heartfelt. So here they are:
From my dad:
"Good afternoon, everyone. I want to thank you all for coming today as we celebrate Trudy's life.
There are many stories I could tell you about Trudy, but I'll just tell you one about similar choices and fate.
It was the fall of 1973. Trudy and I had just moved back to the US after living in Europe. We didn't know each other. Trudy had been working in a hospice in London, I had been in the army in Germany and we just happened to move back to Wisconsin at about the same time. In December 1973, we both independently moved to Madison--Trudy to begin work as an instructor at the University of Wisconsin School of Nursing, and I to begin studying for a masters degree at the School of Business. Again independently, we both searched and found a place to rent in one of those big, anonymous high-rise apartment buildings so common near university campuses. As it turned out, we rented apartments next door to each other. For months we left in the morning, leaving our apartments at different times, never once meeting. Then, one morning in April 1974, after about 4 months of being next-door neighbors, as fate would have it, we left the building at the same exact time and finally met. How cool is that!
I often think of that day in April 1974 and wonder if our paths would have ever crossed had I left my apartment few minutes earlier or later. Possibly not, as there was a good chance I might not have been living in Madison much longer. At the time, I wasn't happy in graduate school and thinking of quitting--I had even interviewed for some jobs in other cities and I had a job offer maybe a month later that I probably would have taken had we not been dating.
I remember soon after we met, that I had all four of my wisdom teeth pulled. It didn't go so well, and I was quite sick. Trudy hardly knew me, but good nurse that she was, she helped me recover. I knew then I couldn't let her get away.
I've always thought that the day we met was the luckiest day of my life as it was the beginning of a lifelong friendship. From the beginning we had a bond that remained strong through 42 years of marriage. We always enjoyed being together and doing things together, raising our family, and traveling the world. She was always there for me through thick and thin; nobody loved me more. I am so thankful for the wonderful life we shared.
Some of you didn't meet Trudy until Alzheimer's disease had already robbed her of her memory and personality. But those who knew her before she got sick will certainly agree with me when I say she was a funny, kind, thoughtful, and caring person who had one of those smiles that could light up a room. I loved her, I'll always lover her, and I will miss her dearly."
From me:
"I have had many years to prepare this speech, but I somehow
could not bring myself to do it until earlier this week. Even though I knew the end was coming, I kept
procrastinating. But I can procrastinate
no longer, and so here we are.
I want to thank everyone who came today on such short notice,
and a holiday weekend. Our family is
honored by your love and support.
The other day, I was getting my hair cut, and the
hairdresser and I were talking about our kids.
She had a son in high school, the same high school where my kids will
one day go, and I asked her if she thought that she was doing a good job
raising her son. The hairdresser’s
response: I will let you know in 10
years.
The teenage years are tough ones, probably parents most
challenging times, as their children try to exert their own independence with
poorly developed teenage judgement.
But teenagers become adults, grow up and usually turn
around. And, as adults, children often learn
to appreciate their parents: the wisdom, and guidance that they provided, and
parents and children can often cultivate a meaningful friendship. This, of
course is what my hairdresser was referring to, and I am sad that my mom never
saw her “finished product”. Jeff was
only 17 when mom was diagnosed; I was only 22, we were both emerging from
adolescence. I think that both of us really have struggled with that.
What I do remember of my mom before she was sick has,
unfortunately, faded with time. But I
do remember her as a fierce advocate for her children. She raised us to work
hard, do the right thing, and never eat raw cookie dough because we might get
salmonella. I follow many of her
examples when raising my own children. Just ask my kids if they get to eat raw
cookie dough when we are baking in our house!
In that way, she lives on in me.
This disease has caused so much sadness. I am heartbroken that it has slowly robbed me
of my mother. Prevented her from the
retirement that she and my dad always dreamed of, kept her from celebrating her
children’s wedding days, getting to know our spouses, holding her grandchildren
in her arms, seeing her children love their own children in a way that she
loves us. It really is unfair. But then again, she always used to tell me:
Life is unfair. (Which is another thing
I always tell my children, by the way).
So, these past 16 years have been a trial. And for no one more so than my dad. Everyone here knows this, but my dad has been
nothing short of an incredible inspiration.
What he has done in caring for my mom has been a testament to his love
and compassion for his wife. Think of
this: for over a third of his marriage, his wife was sick.
My dad’s devotion was unwavering, built on the solid foundation
of his love. What an incredible example
he has set for me. If nothing else,
this journey has taught me so much about the meaning of true love, and for that
I am grateful.
And so, I close this tribute to my mom with a short poem. I am not much of a poet, but mom always loved
writing corny poems, so I think that she would appreciate it:
Mom you are no longer with us
Oh, how we will miss you so
A long illness has consumed you
How unfair don’t we all know
All of our hearts have been broken
By your steady, slow decline
So many of life’s milestones you missed
Wish you could have known these children of mine
I tell you one thing you did right
Way back in ‘75
You found the best partner-dad
Whose heartfelt love helped keep you alive
Always I’ll carry with me
Your life before you were sick
Memories of childhood trips, and baking, and laughter
Your love of spinach deep dish pizza, and outings
shopping-what a kick
How I wish I could have known you
As an adult and sought your advice
Still I give thanks for all you taught me
Carry it with me each day of my life
And so, your time with us is over
Your suffering is now done
Let us cherish your life now, gladly
Remember you with each setting sun."
All, I think, really great tributes to the great person my mom once was. We love you mom, and miss you very much.
