At the request of some from the services, I am posting the eulogy that I gave.
How do you sum up a life?
When my dad asked me to share a little about my mom, a passage of scripture, as it often did when thinking of her, kept coming to mind. It's found in Proverbs Chapter 31 verses 25-31 and reads as follows:
"Strength and honor are her clothing; she shall rejoice in time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and on her tongue is the law of kindness. She watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: "Many daughters have done well, but you excel them all." Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her own works praise her in the gates."
If ever there was a woman who exemplified this passage, my mom was it. From as early as I can remember, my mom was always there, giving of herself, generously, with no expectations. She never had an unkind word for anyone, but was always looking for the best in people. She made you think that if you could just be half the person she seemed to think you were then anything was possible. No matter how busy she was, if you needed her help, advice, a listening ear, or some encouragement, she was there for you. Her days were long and filled with hard work, with seldom any rest to be found, and she struggled with poor health for most of her life, but she never complained. She had an inner strength that, no matter the challenge, caused her to never give up. When I was little I used to marvel at her patience thinking that if ever there lived a saint, she was it. As I got older I became sure of it. Always humble, she never made much of her self -- she was always too busy making much of others. Warm and friendly, loyal and trustworthy, always with a ready smile, she was the kind of person you wanted to spend time with and were proud to call "friend". People, her family and friends, were her treasure. When I moved to Arizona, I was no longer able to see her often, but we would talk nearly every week, and she'd always tell me how blessed and rich she was because of all of us -- her husband, children and grandchildren, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, cousins and friends.
To quote a little of the poem "Mother Mine":
O Mother mine, if I can be
To little ones who look to me,
A mother half as sweet and wise
And tender; if they but surmise
That in your likeness I have tried
To grow, I shall be satisfied,
Mother dearie, Mother cheery, Mother mine.
I love you, Mom.
When my dad asked me to share a little about my mom, a passage of scripture, as it often did when thinking of her, kept coming to mind. It's found in Proverbs Chapter 31 verses 25-31 and reads as follows:
"Strength and honor are her clothing; she shall rejoice in time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and on her tongue is the law of kindness. She watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: "Many daughters have done well, but you excel them all." Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her own works praise her in the gates."
If ever there was a woman who exemplified this passage, my mom was it. From as early as I can remember, my mom was always there, giving of herself, generously, with no expectations. She never had an unkind word for anyone, but was always looking for the best in people. She made you think that if you could just be half the person she seemed to think you were then anything was possible. No matter how busy she was, if you needed her help, advice, a listening ear, or some encouragement, she was there for you. Her days were long and filled with hard work, with seldom any rest to be found, and she struggled with poor health for most of her life, but she never complained. She had an inner strength that, no matter the challenge, caused her to never give up. When I was little I used to marvel at her patience thinking that if ever there lived a saint, she was it. As I got older I became sure of it. Always humble, she never made much of her self -- she was always too busy making much of others. Warm and friendly, loyal and trustworthy, always with a ready smile, she was the kind of person you wanted to spend time with and were proud to call "friend". People, her family and friends, were her treasure. When I moved to Arizona, I was no longer able to see her often, but we would talk nearly every week, and she'd always tell me how blessed and rich she was because of all of us -- her husband, children and grandchildren, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, cousins and friends.
To quote a little of the poem "Mother Mine":
O Mother mine, if I can be
To little ones who look to me,
A mother half as sweet and wise
And tender; if they but surmise
That in your likeness I have tried
To grow, I shall be satisfied,
Mother dearie, Mother cheery, Mother mine.
I love you, Mom.
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