Mother

It's my first Mothers' Day as a mother myself, and I'm feeling privileged to be mother (and all that entails) to my wonderful son Forrest. Today I'm enjoying him, what it is to be his comforter, nourisher, security, love, teacher, guide, disciplinarian, and defining matrix of his world. But I'm also thinking of my own mother. Everything I know about being a mother has been inspired by my memories of her mothering and by my invocation of her spirit throughout these past 7 months. Even though she's passed on, she continues to guide me with quiet strength in some mysterious way. I miss her with an ache that just never fades. She's been gone 5 years now, and to honor her in light of Mothers' Day, I'm posting the eulogy here that I wrote and read at her funeral in 2006. You pervade my being, Mom. I miss you. Thank you for creating me, supporting me, loving me, and teaching me how to be that most sacred of figures, a mother.


Eulogy:
Once upon a time, there was a little fish named Finda. She grew up at the mouth of a stream, and thrived there. One day, she began to wonder what was outside of her own little stream. She wondered if currents existed in other place that felt different, what kinds of other creatures lurked outside of her community. Her head swirled with dreams of what lay beyond. One day, she went exploring on her own. She found herself in an interesting place. The water was pushing at her tail in a stronger way, almost as if it were calling her on an adventure. So, Finda took a deep breath, and dove in the direction of the pressure. She found herself tumbling and twirling in a column of water, barely able to breathe. She was terrified! “What if I made a mistake?” she wondered. Finally, with a slap, the twirling stopped, and Finda hit a rock. She looked around her, and was amazed at what she saw. There were gloriously beautiful and exotic creatures all around her – so colorful and varied. It was unlike anything she ever could have imagined. Soon, she met an exciting rainbow trout, and he became her companion. They traveled the river together and shared many exciting adventures. She hatched 3 eggs, and doted over her beautiful baby fish. The little family was happy. One day, after many years, she encountered something strange. A wiggly pink piece of food appeared before her eyes as if by magic, and it glistened in the sunlight. She was curious, and bit onto the food. Immediately, a searing white-hot pain burned through her mouth. She was lifted up out of the water, her world, and she gasped for breath. She wriggled and wriggled for her life. Snap! – she broke free, but not without a souvenir to remember the experience. Finda was left with a wound that never left her. She continued with her travels down the river and never complained about her wound. She was content to be with her little family. One day, she began to wonder what lay beyond her surroundings, just as she had in her earlier days. She wondered if the river was all there was to life? It seemed to her that there must be more. The question tugged at her day and night. Where does the river lead? They had heard stories about what was beyond the river – it was called “ocean”, and all kinds of beliefs about what it was like abounded throughout riverine communities. But nobody really knew that it existed, let alone what it was like. One especially cloudy day, as she and her family swam along, they ran into an invisible wall. It was a strange wall, and it tasted salty. It was a bit scary, but intriguing. The rest of her family was afraid, but she was bold, an explorer. She heard the ocean calling to her. So one day, with characteristic bravery and adventurous spirit, as her family looked on, she took the leap through the salt wall into the great beyond.

I probably don’t have to tell you all that my mother was a remarkable person. When I think of her, the main thing that I think of is her incredibly fierce inner strength. She had conviction. That incredible inner strength was combined in my mother with a deeply sensitive compassion, making her an amazingly valuable person for doing the work necessary to make the world a better place to live. She believed in many worthwhile causes, and truly acted out her convictions in loving, peaceful, and effective ways. To the best of her ability, she practiced what she preached.

She was truly a visionary, an innovator, and a revolutionary, ahead of her time. She was counter-cultural. She took more extra steps than we’ll ever know in order to help form young minds, those of my siblings and I as well as those in her classrooms so that we would value that which is truly important.

Yesterday, at the visitation, I was speaking to one of my mother’s friends from her teaching days who told me all about her and how she believed so much in empowering young women, even before it was fashionable to be involved in womens’ lib. Mom believed that young women were tomorrow’s leaders, and they had to be empowered if we were ever going to change the world. She committed herself to that cause, raising up tomorrow’s leaders and innovators through teaching. I remember that when I was a child, Mom would not allow me to watch the Miss America pageants, because she did not want my brother and sister and I to value only outward beauty. I feel so fortunate to have had a mother like her. She taught me to respect myself. She taught me that I can do anything I put my mind to. She gave me the self-confidence and skills to believe that I’m capable of breaking every glass ceiling out there.

My mom was so passionate about peace in the world, and had such a big heart (something that is not valued enough in today’s society). As kids, we weren’t allowed to play with toy guns. We weren’t allowed to watch any violence on television, movies, or video games. I am so thankful for that. To this day, Ami, Kevin, and I are all very sensitive to any violence that we see or experience. This allows us to see the world through different eyes than many of our peers, and inspires us to work for peace in powerful ways. There is so much strength in compassion and sensitivity. Mom, of course, hated war. I know that everyone hates war, but I learned first-hand how much my mom hated war when the Gulf War started in 91. She didn’t cry too often, but I remember that as she watched the news that night in the kitchen as she made dinner, they announced that war had been declared. I was alarmed as a child to walk into the kitchen to find my mom bent over the counter, by herself, weeping over this news. She cared so much about people. The people of Iraq, the people of Kuwait, the soldiers on all sides – they weren’t just numbers to her – they were people. I think the reason that she was able to see them as real people is because of her willingness to reach out and understand cultures so drastically different from her own in a time when that just wasn’t done. And she valued human life so much. Mom was an independent thinker, and a brilliant woman, with more beautifully humble inner strength than anyone but God knows.

She was a practical idealist who believed that anything is possible, but that we have to go out and be the change we want to see in the world. Because of that, I believe it’s people like her who make life worth living. This is her legacy to me. And I will carry these values, ideals, and zeal for compassionate causes on through the next generation as I move forward in my life to make my own family.

I honestly believe that my Mom is at peace as we speak. For much of our lives, death seems like simply a far-off theological concept. We can talk and think and worry about it for our whole lives, but we’ll never quite understand it until we experience it. I had the opportunity to be with my mother this past week as she experienced it. There is a bond between mother and daughter that can only be described as mysterious. She participated in creating me. She held me in her womb, and I entered the world through her. When the bone of your bone, flesh of your flesh and spirit of your spirit is dying, there comes a whole new understanding of death. When she left us, there was nothing but peace surrounding her. I know with a great certainty that she is at rest. She is dancing with God, at true peace.

Thank you, Mom, for everything. Thank you God for giving my mother to the world.