A Tribute to Mother

(Eulogy, Funeral Mass, December 15, 2010)

The Lord Has Given, and the Lord Has Taken Away

Our family would like to thank each and every one of you for coming to our mother’s funeral this morning, and for your kind thoughts and prayers. They are a source of comfort in this our time of mourning.

For these are indeed the saddest days of our lives. Our mother has always been there for us. She is the light of our home, the sunshine of our lives. We have been lucky to have this wonderful woman as our mother. She was strong-willed and independent, never wanting to be a burden to anyone. She was the epitome of an ideal mother – stern yet kind, strong yet compassionate, wise, and fair and just in her dealings with others. She taught us good habits and encouraged us to lead virtuous lives, inculcating in us integrity, honesty, and modesty. She taught us to be charitable to others, to value education, to succeed, and to excel.

Education is of paramount importance to my parents. I’d often hear my father say that the only legacy they could give us was education. [Our parents worked hard to put their 10 children through college.] They taught us to work hard and to achieve whatever we wanted out of life.

Our mother loved gardening. She’d often say that when she was among her plants, her aches and pains go away. She loved her roses; she loved her evergreens. She knew the right season for each one of them.

She also loved politics, as she was attuned to things around her. In my daily phone conversations with her from Washington, D.C. , I was discovering how [politically] smart and insightful she was, as she seemed to have an answer to every political question I’d ask.

Most of all, she loved her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Indeed, her life revolved around her family. Her life was dedicated to her family.

And we love her dearly. So that when her health started to decline in August, our fervent wish was that she be blessed with one more season of everything: one more Thanksgiving (that was granted to us, but barely), one more Christmas, one more New Year’s Day celebration, one more birthday in January, one more spring season, one more blossoming of her rose garden.

But as man proposes, God disposes.

In early September, she asked to be taken to the hospital. She felt something was wrong, and she wanted to know what was ailing her. Thus began what to her was a struggle with modern medicine. At the hospital, they ran a battery of tests on every conceivable ailment attacking our mother. Still and all, they could not explain why her platelet count remained low, despite massive transfusions. With everyone in the family taking turns on a daily 24-hour watch, we watched her decline even further. How to explain all this to mother who, ever in charge, would like to know what was ailing her. But mother knew better. She knew she wouldn’t get well in a hospital bed. And having been told that nothing much could be done, we brought her home.

Fr. Richard Neuhaus, a philosopher and a former Lutheran minister who became a Catholic priest, in his wonderful piece, “Born Toward Dying,” said that the last time we spend with the dying and they with us takes place many days and many hours before the final goodbye.

Well, our last time with our mother was those three weeks she spent at home. No more moanings, which she did a lot of when she was in the hospital; just frustrations at things she could not do anymore. We placed her blossoming roses right outside her window to remind her that she was home. [We did everything we could to make her feel comfortable, hoping that she would still get better. Her old doctor said she was feisty and fought till the end.] During those three weeks, her one question remained: “what is ailing me?.” To which we did not have an answer. To her, to know is to conquer, and to conquer is to love.

So the Lord gives, and the Lord takes away.

We thank Him for having blessed us with this wonderful mother. From the exemplary life she has lived and from the many prayers she has received, we are certain that she is in a happy place with my father, even as we look forward to the day when we get to see them again.

Mom, thanks for everything! We already miss you! But as you’ve taught us by example many, many times before, we will face this moment of loss with courage, faith, and white-winged hope, knowing that your love for us is as constant as the sun that comes out and shines every morning.