On Mother's Day

I don’t want to write this.

My mother passed away 10 years ago. I gave the eulogy at her funeral, not because I was the oldest, but because I wanted to; very badly. I was not by her side on the afternoon she passed. We all knew the time was coming, but I was with my wife visiting a son at college in New Hampshire. My youngest son called me from my parents’ house to give me the news.

Mom was not in a lucid state for the last week of her life. Her lungs were barely functional. She was on morphine. She was mercifully unconscious for most of her last days. She was most probably unaware of who was at her bedside. I should have been. I wasn't.

For my whole family, I’d like to thank everyone joining us today, those who stopped by yesterday, and those who have contacted us from all over the country. The kind thoughts and prayers expressed by so many people are a testament to the legacy of an amazing person, Johanna Elizabeth Paleologopoulos. To our aunts and uncles, our cousins, and family friends we thank you for the part you played in our mother’s life. You gave her laughter. You gave her love. You gave her a break. We include you all as part of our family and we sincerely appreciate all of your support and sympathy as we share the burden of grief and sadness.

Earlier that week, I left a Thursday evening meeting and went home instead of to her house. I thought I’d see her the next day; or the next.

I didn’t.

Mom and Dad were married in 1955 and for the last 57 and a half years they have been a model of how one man and one woman can make the world a better place. My brothers and sisters and I are proud to have such incredible parents to lean on for inspiration and strength. Dad was our rock and protection and Mom was the eye of the storm. She somehow controlled the chaos. Dad made the best decision of his life when he asked Mom to be his wife. Adjectives like kind and loving and strong and thoughtful and beautiful don’t do justice when describing Mom. To us, she is the ideal of kindness, of strength, of beauty. Mom actually meets all of the qualifications for sainthood.

Mom and Dad raised eight kids. There’s the smart one, the funny one, the talented one, the happy one, the moody one, the brave one, the foolish one, and me, the cuddly one. She dealt with all of the shenanigans that go along with eight kids as we took turns being smart, funny, talented, happy, moody, brave, foolish, and cuddly. She did it with patience and understanding and sometimes a very loud voice. She had the same super powers that every mother has, but Mom had something more. We grew up, safe and sound, thanks to Mom’s protective spells.

She was always there when I needed her for advice or a laugh. She was proud of me; I know. I’m not exceptional or exceedingly successful, but I’m okay. She let us be us.

I took her for granted.

The genius of Mom and Dad is that they instilled the difference between right and wrong in us early. We were all respectful, studious, friendly, and obedient; as children. As we reached maturity they let us make our own decisions and sink or swim. If we had questions or fears, they always had advice and they were always right. We didn’t always make the best decisions in our lives, but Mom and Dad were always there with support, understanding and just the right amount of judgment. They taught us from a very early age how important it was to be a part of something larger than ourselves.

The most obvious characteristic that defines Mom is compassion. Over the years, Mom welcomed anyone into our home. She raised eight children of her own and she helped raise a few dozen of our friends. It didn’t matter where they came from, what shape they were in, or what time of day or night. If they came into our house, she touched their lives in a profound and permanent way. She had the biggest heart in the world. She made our house a safe place. Mom had some kind of magical tone to her voice that could ease suffering, or make people laugh, or make them shut up and listen. She commanded authority and handed out charity in a way that made everyone love her automatically.

And here we are today. A family blessed by her love and spirit, surrounded by friends and relatives that also knew Mom as a special, magical person. Mom always wanted us to know how blessed she felt for her family and friends and how proud she was of every one of us. Her wisdom and compassion live on through all of us here and in all the lives she touched over the years. She’s given us all of the love that she saved up over the years and shown us the way to live our own lives that spreads that love, makes a difference in other people’s lives, and makes the world a better place.

I want to say thank you to Debbie and my guys, and all of my brothers and sisters for helping me get through this, with special thanks to Matt, Diane, and Ellen who helped take care of Mom and be there for Dad on a daily basis. To our littlest sister, Elly Belly, the strongest one of all, you are an angel in your own right.Rest in peace, Mom, with your parents, Jimmy, Tommy, John, Mary, and the angels. For Uncle Michael and Aunt Bonnie, Aunt Sheila, Uncle Geo, Aunt Dolly, Peter and the hundreds of other cousins, nieces and nephews, Ellen, Eileen and Tim, Hailey, Ben, Mark, Tom and Maryann, Jim, Caroline, Chris and Mary, Katie, Michael, Colin, Matt, Diane, Andy and Liz, Peter, Matthew, Samuel, Debbie, Cam, Alex, Ian, me and the greatest Dad in the world. We love you, Mom.

A few months before she died, she and I spent some time looking through her old high school yearbook. Her memory for recent events was failing quickly. But as we leafed through the pages, she told me how this girl went on to become a secretary and this boy became a banker. I was amazed at her ability recall mundane facts about such a long time ago. I’m hoping that her last thoughts were of happy innocent times when she was young. When we all were young and she was still with us. I’m not a big fan of Mother’s Day anymore.