It's been two years ago today that my mother passed away. I reread Hamish's remarks from my mother's funeral, and thought I'd share it here. We miss her tremendously, but as Hamish states so well, her legacy lives on.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Looking out at all of you, I know that there are many who remember the day Susan was born. I first met Susan on October 20, 2003. I remember it clearly, because it was also the first time I met Ellen. I had just moved to Hawaii and was staying with Sammy, an old friend of my father’s, while I looked for an apartment, a job, and a car. One day, Susan and Ellen stopped by to visit. I introduced myself to both of them, made some small talk, and sat on the couch next to Ellen. Now, everyone knows that there are not many people as verbose as Susan. Well, Sammy was close. For the next two and a half hours, Ellen and I sat next to each other without saying a word as Susan and Sammy chatted and chatted and chatted. When they finally decided to leave, Ellen casually mentioned that she was needing to sell her car. I went to take a look, and even in the dark, I could tell that this was a chick car. 1982 VW Rabbit convertible. But it was cheap. I was unsure about it, but before I could say no, Susan thrust something into my hand and said “Here. Call her.” I looked down to see that she had scribbled Ellen’s phone number on the back of her Pollywog Pottery business card. I took it and Ellen and her mother drove away. Only later did I learn that as they were driving away, Susan said to Ellen, “whatever you do, don’t sell your car to that nice boy Hamish.”
The rest is history. But the fact is, Susan’s boldness is the reason that Ellen didn’t walk out of my life forever. She is the reason that I was blessed with this wonderful son.
Susan always had her heart open for new people. I know that there are some of you out there, who, like me, have only known Susan for a few years. But she had a gift: she could make anyone feel like they were the most important person in her life. She did the small things that made you feel good inside. For me, it was making me a sandwich when I flew somewhere. Actually, it was more like two sandwiches on home-baked bread, a few pears from the orchard, a Tupperware full of cookies and a quart of pickles. She made me feel loved.
For those of you who don’t know, Susan made great pickles, just like grandma Flossie’s. Crunchy and garlicky with the dill and salt in perfect proportion. When Ellen and I moved up to Oregon soon after we were married, canning pickles was one of the first things on the agenda.
We got a ridiculous amount of pickles from the u-pick and Susan and the rest of us spent the day scrubbing, slicing, packing, and boiling pickles. We were talking and laughing and having a great time. As Susan dubbed it, it truly was a “pickle party” with “a plethora of pickles.” A competition soon started to see who could string the most “P” words together. “Packing a precious peck of pickles” and “Perhaps pickle parties perturb people.” It went on for hours. No one was allowed to look at a dictionary. Points were given for obscure “P” words. Susan was the champ. It was classic Susan, always looking for a little mental exercise. When she wasn’t pontificating on pickles, she was always reading something. But for all her verbal prowess, she was still convinced that “romantical” should be a word.
I can’t speak of Susan and how she was as a friend, daughter or sister. That wasn’t how I knew her. I knew her as a mother and family woman. She took me into her family and treated me like a son, like a member of the family. All of Susan’s energy went to making a better life for her kids. Whether it was corn husk dolls or dragon totems, the proceeds of her creations went to her family, on camping trips to cow camp or road trips to the redwoods. Theron and her five children were her life. As her children married and had children of their own, those grandchildren became everything to her. It is heartbreaking to think that many of her grandchildren will not know how it feels to be held in her arms. Susan recognized this and took the time to record her favorite children’s books for her grandchildren that she had never met.
No one could ask for a better grandmother than Susan. No one could ask for a better mother, sister, wife, daughter, or friend. Kirk, Ellen, Pam, Lane, Holly: You’ve lost your mother; a friend and confidant. Nothing can ever replace that. But remember the gift of having an energetic, creative, and tireless mother, and pass on her example to your children. The only way the little ones sitting on your lap and yet to be born will truly know Susan is through your stories and example.
Theron, I can’t even imagine your loss. There will never be another woman as smart, funny, and beautiful as Susan. But you and Susan built a wonderful family together: a strong family that will live on, bolstered by the coming generations.
For the rest of us, we’ve lost a beautiful soul. She lightened our days and brought smiles to our faces. But Susan was taken many years too soon. She had many years of life yet to live. Her death only serves to remind us that our time here is a precious gift. We must cherish it. In her last days, all of us knew that our time with her was drawing to a close. But too often we are not given that warning. I am eternally grateful that I was given the opportunity to thank Susan for all she has done for me and my young family.
Susan’s spirit will endure here on earth through the examples that she set for her friends and family. Through her children, she will impact her grandchildren and the generations that are yet to come. Her legacy will live on."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
To end on a happy note, I found this video deep in the recesses of my computer. This is footage from the actual pickle party Hamish speaks of in his remarks - just at the beginning of Mom's "P- Word" competition. And yes, I do realize I'm being a complete control freak in this video (and I actually had no idea Hamish was taking this little video - but I'm so glad he did!!!)
