Word of the Day:  Grief (grēf) “Intense emotional suffering caused by loss, disaster, misfortune, etc.; acute sorrow; deep sadness”

Today marks the first anniversary of my Mother’s death.  Some of you may have wondered why I haven’t written quite as often about my Mother in my blogs as I have about my Dad.  It think it is because the loss of her is still too fresh.  My Dad has been gone almost thirty-four years, and that wound has healed over, plus as I have mentioned in earlier blogs, I have a sense of closeness with him from the Other Side.  When we lose a loved one, often we insulate ourselves from the pain by sealing off the emotions until the inner wound begins to close.  The tears and the anguish lie too close to the surface.  I find it is the little things that often trigger the sense of loss in us, not the big tearful moments.  I have to remember to tell her that the first hummingbird showed up today, or the boys are playing hockey now — all of those little day-to-day things that we can no longer share with a loved one who has left us.

My Mother lived a good life.  She was ninety-one and was ready to go.  In honor of her memory, I would like to share with you some excerpts from the remarks I made at her memorial service a few weeks after her death.  This is a bit longer than my usual blog, but bear with me!

Some of you knew Evelyn for many years; some of you knew her for only a few years; and a few of us have known her for our entire lives. When we were painfully cleaning out her apartment downstairs a couple of weeks ago, one of the things we found was a Journal addressed to Suzanne and me. When I went to read it, I realized she was not a very prolific journal writer–only five entries, but each one packed with meaning!

Born in 1923, Mother was definitely a child of the 20’s and 30’s! She grew up during the great Depression. One of her journal entries said “the kids today think life is tough. They should have lived in the 30’s and 40’s. In some ways, I’m glad I did. It has given my generation a deeper appreciation of many, many things in life.”

When she was only 15, she met the love of her life, Harvey Waldman. He was 20 at the time. I don’t think my Grandmother was too pleased at that age difference! After they had dated a couple of years, the tragedy of Pearl Harbor came along followed by the entry of the United States into World War II. Our Dad enlisted in late 41, and our parents married in early 42 when she was only 18. Not too long after that he completed basic training and officer’s training school and was shipped out to the North African and Italian campaigns.   As she put it in her journal, “your Dad spent most of the war in North Africa, either chasing Rommel or being chased by him!”

At long last the War came to an end, and he returned home to a wife he hadn’t seen in well over two years and to a daughter he had never met. That would be me! I guess things were a little rocky for a while there. Dad had been a Captain, and as Mother succinctly put it, “Harve’s world had changed. He was used to telling everyone else what to do and that changed us. I had also grown and was not the same girl he left behind!” I guess the sparks flew for a while there, but fortunately for us, they moved on with their life.

Mother hated war, she said, “Your Dad was lucky, he never suffered any physical disability, but everyone who goes to war suffers all of their lives in other ways. Harve never talked about the war, the killing, and what it did to everyone. Can’t we ever learn to love and stop the hate?”

We had a great childhood growing up in Dallas in the ’50’s and 60’s. Mother was not your typical Ozzie and Harriet sort of Mom. She worked outside of the home at a time when very few woman did so. She was never what you would call the domestic type! One of our standing jokes was that when it was time to take treats to school for birthdays or holidays, we always took Oreo cookies, very seldom home baked cupcakes. A few year ago, during a rehab stay at LifeCare, the occupational therapist wanted her to bake muffins. We laughed and told her that Mother had probably never baked muffins in her life, why start now!

In late 1981 she lost her beloved Harvey and her father within a month of one another. As you would expect, she went through a period of depression. To help get out of that dark period, she started to travel, and definitely got bit by the travel bug. Some of you here traveled with her on several trips! She made her first trip to China in the early ’80’s and was among the first foreign visitors allowed into China when that country began to open up to the outside world. She fell in love with China. She once told me that she must have been Chinese in a previous life!

On one of her trips to China, she went out to the Gobi Desert to the end of the Great Wall of China. The tour guide gave the usual admonitions, “Don’t touch anything. Don’t pick up anything.” When she got home, she came to visit us in Greeley and proudly presented a handful of small stones from the Gobi Desert to Chris and Greg! Oh Mother, what have you done! On another trip she visited the excavation site of the famous Terra Cotta warriors at Xian. Again the admonition, “No pictures!” Needless to say, she managed to surreptitiously take a number of pictures, which she proudly shared with us!!

For those of us old enough to remember the movie of the same name, Mother was sort of the Auntie Mame of our family! She once did a cruise of the Greek Islands with a close friend. One night while anchored off one of the Greek islands, huge waves rocked the boat, dumping both Mother and Helen out of their beds onto the floor. Later she nonchalantly said, “Oh, it was just an earthquake!”

When she went to Africa to see the silver-back gorillas, the famed gorillas in the mist, she made it just fine to Nairobi, but alas her luggage went on some other excursion of its own! A lot of people would have been upset about heading off on a trek into the wilds without their luggage, but it didn’t faze her! She went shopping in Nairobi, bought a couple pairs of khaki shorts and several tee shirts and off she went. She was so moved by the poverty she saw that she gave away those new garments at the end of the trek, plus several other articles of clothing (when her luggage finally caught up with her) to the porters who accompanied her on the trek!

In 2000, Mother and I did a magical trip to Peru as part of a group with Wayne Dyer (if any of you have read any of his books). We did the usual sites, Lima, Cusco, the Urubamba Valley, and the awesome ruins at Manchu Picchu! When the rest of the group left to head for home, we stayed an extra week and went on to the southern parts of Peru. We especially wanted to see the famous Nazca lines. We went up in a four-seater Cessna to see the amazing lines and carved images. As we were getting into the plane, we looked at each other and said, well, let’s hope they do good maintenance around here! As we soared over the Nazca plain, the pilot did 360’s on the wing tip around the various carvings and lines below so we could get a good view.   Didn’t scare her in the least! She was busy looking below and snapping pictures!

As she struggled with more and more health issues, the day came all too soon when she had to sell her condo and give up her brand new, bright red Toyota Rav4! That was when she moved here and made many new friends as well as reconnecting with some old friends who had also moved to Lakeview.

I’d like to share one more entry from her journal from March of 2007, “This morning I had cherry pie for breakfast. Good! I haven’t had cherry pie since Harve died. It was his favorite pie. Today I’m going to the Red Hat Luncheon. I wonder if I should wear my Tibetan hat? Better not. It’s raining.” And then she went back to the pie thoughts, “I never eat pie for breakfast. At 83 I can eat pie whenever I care to!” Her last entry in 2013 said, “Harve, I still miss you. I guess I always will.”

In conclusion, I hope she and our Dad are sitting up there, smiling and waving at all of you and munching on a huge slice of cherry pie, with some crumbs on their lips and a dribble of cherry filling on their chins!

Mother, we all love you so much! Bon Voyage!

©2015, Home Again, A Spiritual Journey