This was the perfect way to sum up how I felt about the people that came to my mom's celebration and service on Sunday. Some people came from a few miles away, and some people came from a few hundred miles away. We didn't get the chance to sit and talk with each of you as long as we would have liked, but Neal and I are still saying, days after, how perfect the day was and how lucky we are and how much it meant to us that so many of you were there for us and for my mom.
We wanted to honor my mom in a way that she would have wanted. She hated funerals, but loved to party. She was a free spirit and loved blue. She spent many of her younger years with her siblings and friends skating at the North Park rink, and I can think of very few places she loved as much as she loved North Park as a whole. She loved M&Ms, Smartees, Potato Chips, Deviled Eggs, T-Bones chicken, and pretty much any dessert item you could think of. Those are only a few of the reasons that Sunday was so perfect. Neal and I wanted to incorporate the little details that we remember about our mom, and we are beyond appreciative that people who came to celebrate her with us on Sunday went along with the theme and treated it as a happy occasion because of the life that was lived, instead of being sad over the life that was lost. It's exactly what she would have wanted, but we couldn't have done it without you all.
When my mom lost her mom 3 years ago, she wrote the most fitting and amazing speech to honor the person she was. It blew us all away and was so fitting to my Grandma's character and incorporated humor but also took on a serious tone.
I never could have imagined my opportunity to do the same for my mom would come so soon after that, but I'm so glad my mom somehow gave me the strength to stand up and get through the following 'speech' at her service. A special thanks to all my cousins for helping this come together and giving me input and ideas (such as "slow down, because you're reading it way too fast" and "maybe you should actually write 'slow down' on the paper, just don't read it out loud.")
I love you, momma. I'll miss you forever, but I am 100% confident that you are in a better place, cancer-free, underwear-free, and watching over us all.
Nothing I could say today could ever sum up everything I want to say, so I won’t even try. Instead, I’ll just share a few of the most important lessons that my mom taught me in her time here with us.
My mom taught me that people are more important than things. No material thing on this planet ever held more importance to her than the relationships and bonds she formed with those around her. And I can assure you, if she ever found a material thing that even came close, she would have found a way to return it anyway.
My mom taught me that there is a special bond between sisters. She never gave me one, but we tried our best with Neal. I must say, nobody pulled off that Snow White dress quite like him. On the other hand, there is nothing like the bond between brother and sister--although, I did not kill any of my brother's turtles.
My mom taught me that being a middle child was like being in a secret club. While not having one of her own, she kept that special bond with other club members in the family.
My mom taught me that if it’s somebody’s birthday, you sing regardless of how well you can carry a tune. One of the first things everyone is going to miss is that phone call on their birthday.
My mom taught me that sugar is its own food group.
My mom taught me that a chapstick kiss on the window could endure all types of weather.
My mom taught me that it’s okay to march to the beat of your own drummer and to color outside the lines. She was the woman who was dressed up for Halloween in August; who would put the convertible top down once the outside temperature hit 40 degrees with the windows up and heat blasting; who considered popcorn and M&Ms to be a well-balanced meal; and who wore all black to her third wedding (just to name a few.)
My mom taught me never to say “Shut Up”, but all other words and expletives are fair game. But if the setting is not appropriate for profanity, a "fooey!" or "fiddlesticks!" will do just fine.
My mom taught me that a flock of ducks qualifies as siblings, too.
My mom taught me to never leave the house without doing my eyebrows (still working on that one.)
My mom taught me that true beauty is found within. She was so much more than blonde hair (or red hair, depending on the day), blue eyes, and the dimple on her left cheek. She had a heart (and two teeth) of gold. She lit up a room with her presence, brought life to any party, yet made everyone feel unique and special.
My mom taught me that the cure to a stomach ache isn't found in the medicine cabinet, but in a two liter bottle of Pepsi.
My mom taught me to understand that when she said she would arrive somewhere at a certain time, you should always build in an extra 15 minutes to two hours.
My mom taught me that if you love someone, you show them. Every single day. You show them with little things--like sending Valentine’s and St. Patrick’s day cards and making vanilla milk before bed—and you show them with big things—like caring for them when they are sick, paying for a plane ticket to Africa, watching YouTube videos of chorus concerts she probably didn't really care to see, and sitting beside their bed at night and listing all the people who also love them.
My mom taught me that undergarments are optional.
My mom taught me that when a backyard goes up in flames, a bucket full of pond water (and a few unlucky fish) isn’t very effective in putting out the fire.
My mom taught me that attitude is everything. From the time Neal and I started school, she put the greatest emphasis not on good grades, but on a check mark next to the box that said “demonstrates a positive attitude.” I didn’t realize until my mom got sick how thoroughly she lived and breathed the importance of that every day of her life. Whether it was recognizing her blessings through her battle with brain cancer over the last year or finding the small miracles in every day, I think it’s safe to say my mom earned a big giant check mark next to “demonstrates a positive attitude.”
A friend of hers summed it up well when she told me the other day, “Everyone needs a Julie in their life.” I am so lucky I got to call her “mom”. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make her proud and trying to remember my blessings instead of my misfortunes, but I will most certainly also spend the rest of my life missing the person who inspired me to do so.
Last but certainly not least, my mom taught me that when driving away and making an exit, you always beep twice.
