LIFE WITH LIZZIE "Gratitude is the memory of the heart," wrote Jean Baptiste Massieu. My grandmother, Mom Mom, was Emma Elizabeth Spencer Beavers. She detested "Emma," preferring "Elizabeth" or "Lizzie." The Spencers were known to be peculiar. Grandpa Spencer asked his wife to hold a glass. He shot off her fingers with his pistol. Mom Mom was not our "real" grandmother. She was our great aunt. Mom Mom and Granddaddy took in Mother, their niece, when she was seven. They were always Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Gatha to her. When Mother graduated from Mississippi College for Women, she began a career in Tennessee. Mother received a letter from Granddaddy asking her to come home. Mom Mom had a hysterectomy and …show more content…
She met Daddy at First Baptist Church. They married. I was born thirteen months later, breech and premature. Daddy said I was always in a hurry, trying to get head of myself. My parents worked. Childless, Mom Mom, took care of me. My colicky sister was born three years later. Mom Mom had attended Mississippi Normal College. She was almost a spinster when she married Granddaddy at twenty-five. Mom Mom taught me to read using primers from her one room teaching days. I learned to play "America" on the Kimball piano she had painstakingly refinished. Mom Mom made sugar cookies and yeast rolls. When I was sassy, I learned another use for a wooden spoon that did not involve baking. Days were spent riding broomstick horses and climbing the Mimosa tree. When Mom Mom called, I answered, "Here I am." My sister would not answer. She had a meeting with the wooden spoon. Spending the night with Mom Mom was and adventure. We went to bed at dark. We rose at four. The kitchen table was prepared the night before and covered with a cloth. We feasted on bacon, grits, scrambled eggs (Granddaddy called cackleberries), and toast. We drank coffee that was mostly milk and
One of my earliest memories of Grandpa begins with us driving to the Monmouth Park Racetrack. We sure did love to go to the track and root for Julie Krone or one of our other favorite jockeys. He loved challenges, and he especially loved the challenge of picking the ponies. He would read the race programs in the Asbury Park Press and usually pre-pick most of the day's favorite horses before ever leaving the house. Still, on arrival, we always bought the program and maybe a race sheet or two before entering the track grandstand. After picking up a couple of seats right around the finish line or maybe a little past it, back to figuring he'd go. As he went, grandpa would always point out the horses that had won recently or looked like they were due. "I have a feeling about this one" he'd say.
I’m glad we have Maurice, my mother’s younger brother here today. Ella, her older sister, unfortunately couldn’t make it, but I know the news of my mothers death hit her hard. And I know that she prayed with all her will, for my mother.
It is hard to give a eulogy for one’s parent. More than the death of a classmate or sibling, the death of a parent is not only a loss, but also a reminder that we are all following an inevitable path. We are all “Outrunning Our Shadow” as her friend Fred Hill so provocatively titled his book.
I'd like to talk today about my grandmother, Ruth Smith - about who she was, what she meant to us, and what this day means.
There is an old Yiddish proverb, when the heart is full, the eyes overflow. And so it is the case when we try to sum up and honor my mother’s life.
I want to thank all of my Mother’s friends and family for being here today to celebrate her life and to mourn her death. I’m sure she would be thrilled to see all of you here and I know it would have meant the world to her.
When I think of Mary Helen Smith, also known to me as Grandma, I think of learning, laughter and love.
When I was four years old my mum and dad decided to have another baby.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I noticed the lines of my face and the curve of my neck. I looked down at my hands remembering the moment I first realized that they looked like hers. Long, thin, delicate hands perfect for playing the piano or braiding cornrows. All my life I had not noticed until the day I sat at her bedside holding her hand in mine. She had told me that she was not afraid to die. We sat in silence for a long time, sometimes sharing a stare and a smile. I don't know how long I sat there, looking at her, realizing for the first time who I looked so much like. As I stood in front of the mirror, I remembered that day as I prepared for her funeral. Sarah Smith, my grandmother's going home day. My father asked me to do her eulogy. I had thought and thought of what to say. The words didn't come until the morning of her funeral. That morning I went to the lake where me, my brothers, and my sister would go swimming in the summer on weekend visits to my grandmother's. As I soaked in the sun and watched its rays dance on the waters a memory came.
It is hard for me to believe she’s gone, my primary influence, sustainer, supporter and wisest counselor has left me physically. Mother was such an active participant in this world right to her very last breath. I am so grateful to have been with her on her last day. At his point she was struggling to form words and get them out, but her mind was alert, caring and compassionate. She was still worried about me, a mother to the end.
My mother was a complex, multi-faceted person. Many of you here today knew my mother personally, and many of you knew my mother indirectly through one of her family members. You may have known her as a coworker, a friend, or a support person. Of course, all of my mother’s family here today each knew a part of her, a “facet” of her--as a mother, a sister, an aunt, a grandmother, a cousin.
Good afternoon, let me just start by saying that the kindness, support, friendship, and love extended to me and my family during this difficult time has really touched my heart- we are sincerely appreciative!
I believe that every person in, in their own unique way, creates a legacy in their lifetime by which others can live long after that person has left us. For those of us who remain, Mildred Johnson has truly created a legacy to uphold and fulfill in our daily lives. I firmly believe that this carrying out is a true honor and responsibility by means of the various facets that Mildred has made her own.
Before I begin I would like to thank all of you here on behalf of my mother, my brother and myself, for your efforts large and small to be here today, to help us mark my fathers passing.
Earl Spencer, “Eulogy for Princess Diana” As the whole world took part in Princess Diana’s memorial service in Westminster Abbey, London, be it television or radio, Earl Spencer 9th delivered a tribute, “Eulogy for Princess Diana”, which provided his last respects for her. Earl Spencer is Princess Diana’s younger brother and he holds experience as an author, journalist and broadcaster. Commemorating the life of Princess Diana, Earl Spencer was able to unite the whole world and remind them of her iconic actions for humanity. Given September 6th, 1997, his eulogy argues that Princess Diana’s assets as well as insecurities enabled her to be the “People’s Princess”, creating her own sense of nobility, separated from the royal family.