On February 13th, 2007, at 0215 HRS, my mother, at the age of 81, left this earth for a much awaited date with her Lord and Saviour.
I miss her terribly, she was a wonderful woman.
(She is in the picture above, on the right, in the front row. She is next to my Aunt Marie. In the back row, from left to right, are my Aunts Anita, Virginia and Gloria.)
I did one of the hardest things that a child ever has to do: I eulogised her at a memorial celebrating her life:
We all knew, and loved, Catherine Wilson. She was a wonderful sister, wife, grandmother, mother and friend. She would give the shirt off her back for a stranger, would do that more than that for a friend. And often, she did.
She was humble, passionate, smart, beautiful, and kind. My dad felt as though he were the luckiest man in the world to have found her. I hit the jackpot to have been blessed to have her as my mother. Her grandchildren loved her more than you could possibly imagine.
She was slow to judge, quick to forgive. Though she might have been exhibiting her fiery Sicilian temper one moment, the next she was enfolding you in her arms, her loving, forgiving arms. She was the true exemplar of a Christian, in my opinion.
So, when I heard of my mother’s illness, five weeks and ten thousand miles of travel ago, I started planning for this day, because my mother would not have wanted me to put this off, to leave this to the last minute.
But when I tried to write something, the memories and stories of my forty years came washing over me. And, true to form, I was finishing this as the sun rose on Lynn Haven…this morning.
I wanted to quote poets and kings; but, that didn’t seem appropriate. Some versions were too sad, some not worthy of such a great mother. I finally thought about my mother’s stories and sayings, and there, found fertile ground for this final tribute to my mother.
She always told me that there were three topics that I should never discuss in polite company: sex, politics and religion. Due to the constraints of time, I can only cover two of these, so let me first mention politics.
As a child of two civil servants, we often discussed politics around the dinner table. I learned that it is important to vote for the man, not the party. Unfortunately, she and I usually never agreed on either the man, or the party.
She was passionate about politics. She always had an opinion on every issue, though sometimes she was afraid to voice that opinion. She encouraged me to vote, telling me that I couldn’t complain if I didn’t vote. In fact, she always voted early, possibly often, under Florida’s early voting laws. I note that she had informed me of her vote for the next President of the United States; but, I won’t give that away.
My mother was a wonderful, Christian woman. Her faith was strong, like the Rock of Gibraltar. She exemplified the teachings of Christ, and she prayed every day. She inspired in me the importance of faith, of going to church, to living according to His word.
Her faith was unshaken when bad things happened; in fact, it made her faith stronger. She never cursed God when she lost her family members to death. She never questioned God’s mercy when my dad died. And, I am certain that she had no fear, no anger at God, for taking her to be reunited with those who shared her love for Christ, our Saviour.
I think of her prayers: at forty, that she would have a healthy child; at fifty five, that she’d see me graduate from high school; at sixty, that she would see me out of college, with a degree. She saw her children married. She saw, and loved, her grandchildren. She thanked God, daily, for these many blessings.
In Miami, my parents’ pastor said that "labels were libels." She never despaired that people made different choices for their faith. She had friends—fellow Christians—who were Mormons, Catholics, Presbyterians, Baptists, and Unitarians. When people were in need, she’d say that she and her friends were praying for them; and, since she had so many different friends of different faiths, "we had all of the bases covered."
She was proud of her grandson, Jordan, who spent the last two years of his life on his Mission for the Mormon Church. She liked the fact that he was learning, at an early age, the importance of evangelizing, of standing up for your faith.
This evangelizing spirit was present when she insisted, along with my dad, that my school in Tampa would be Jesuit High School. No debate allowed. We would talk about this experience, how it mirrored my life in Utah, as only one of a few Gentiles in a Mormon community. And how we were all Christians, so it didn’t really matter what we called ourselves. She taught me to stand up for my faith, to think critically, to believe.
She supported my own conversion, my choice of religion, because in her mind, as long as I followed Christ, it didn’t matter what I called myself.
I also thought of a few other things that I wanted to share with you all; or, as my mother would say, "y’all." Things that you may not have known about her.
First, she survived a massive earthquake, in Mexico, on one of her many trips. She owed her survival to the power of prayer, as she watched the walls shimmering, rippling, under the strain of the quake. Prayer, and her choice of a modern, earthquake-proof hotel.
She traveled with her sisters, and friends, and family. To Cuba, Jamaica, Spain: across the length and breadth of this great nation. To her, I owe my love of travel, and of meeting new people.
Second, she was always ready with a joke, or a story, that could brighten your day. She had a near-encyclopaedic knowledge of jokes—even I marveled at it—but, she was never on stage. Her laugh was contagious, and I would chuckle to myself when I heard her howling with laughter, at "Seinfeld", or reruns of "The Andy Griffith Show."
Third, she liked Robert Redford. I remember my mother dragging me through the Salt Lake City Airport, following the actor. I also remember that a white courtesy telephone was involved, with my dad asking where we were. One of her friends gave my mom a framed picture of Redford, which she displayed in her room. One day, my son, James, walked in and said to my mother, "Boy, grandpa sure was handsome before he got sick."
Last night, when I arrived from Boston, I contemplated the fact that this was one of the first times that I came to Panama City that I wasn’t met by one, or both, of my parents. I was saddened by this; but, also happy, because I know that my mom is in heaven, and in my heart.
Just two more thoughts that I have to share with you this morning:
When my dad was sick, and dying, my son, Bennett, would rub his feet, trying to make his grandpa feel better. My mom always said that struck her as a testament to the job that I was doing, teaching Bennett. "Of course," I told her, "I couldn’t have done that without what you taught me."
She was so proud of her family, her nieces and nephews, and of course, her children and grandchildren.
And finally, the noted philosopher, Jagger, observed that "You can’t always get what you want."
She didn’t want to die, but she was ready. I didn’t want to lose her, because I wasn’t ready. But, I got a few more weeks with my mother, for me to tell her what, she, no doubt, already knew. That she was so loved, so respected.
Later, that same philosopher noted that, "if you try, sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need."
I, we, needed those last few weeks, and my mother, unselfishly, gave up an earlier appointment with her Saviour to give us what we needed. Just one more day to say, "I love you." One more day to hold her hand. One more day to say, "Goodbye."
So, as I conclude, I wanted to comment on a few of my mother’s favourite expressions, a list found by me, to sum up what she must surely be feeling right now.
"That’s the way it is." You have to say goodbye. I will be fine.
"Things aren’t like they used to be." I am not there to laugh with you.
"You know, children don’t listen to their parents anymore." Sometimes we do. I always did.
"You know, men never listen." Okay, that’s probably true.
"I told you so." I told you I would be fine. Heaven is wonderful.
"This office is too hot/too cold." Heaven, however, is just fine. 72 degrees.
Goodbye
