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! During the last moments of my mother’s life she was surrounded by loved ones, as she slowly slipped away into the morning with grace and peace. I can’t begin to express how hard it is for me to stand here before you and give my last respects to my loving mother - name here. From the biography that was handed out you can recall that during the her early years in the united states she studied and worked in New York where she met and married my dad, the love of her life. They spent the rest of their days loyal and in love with one another. Unfortunately, one day my father passed away with cancer at a young age. My dad was the one who suffered the most, but my mom suffered right along with him. She felt powerless, and for my mom- powerlessness turned in to guilt and grief, a painful distress she lived with on a daily basis for the next six years. When he died part of her died! Life for her was never the same again. I was not able to completely understand her loss- until now… Throughout my life my mom has always been selfless and generous- especially when it came to her children and grandchildren… ever putting her self last! SHE WAS MY EVERYTHING… Unlike my sister, I was the one that gave my parents their grey hair… It took me longer than most to mature, and the truth is- that’s putting it mildly. Yet through all the ups and downs, and all the times I would end up disappointing her expectations of me, one thing NEVER changed and that was her belief in me… because of her unconditional love I am the person that I am today… her reassurance and patience made all the difference. Because of her active involvement in my life and Eileen’s she became known to our friends as “Mama”. Where ever we would go- she would go with us, that’s just the way it was… she got so close to our friends that they formed their own friendship with her.
One of life’s most drastic obstacles is the aftermath of the death of a beloved. I found myself in the grieving process most recently when my grandmother passed away a few years ago. My grandma and I were very close and I spent a lot of time with her baking, solving puzzles and enjoying each other's company. This was a very tough time for me as this was my last grandparent on my mother’s side. Having an emotional reaction to this loss was understandable since we had such a close relationship. Even though this was a challenge for me I was faced with the
I am so happy to be able to look out and see the faces of those very special people who cared for dad and supported me during the past 3 years at Lincoln Place. I have come to know some very special people, particularly dad's companions...Wahid, dad's companion during his last 16 months, Miajan, Mimi, Sheila, Kabir...I can't thank you enough. Also Merci, Ashya, Julie, Michael...I could not do the job you do so compassionately every day at Lincoln Place.
Many had said of her that she did too much for us, her children. It was said that perhaps she loved us too much. But, I ask of you, just how can you do too much for your children and even more, how can you love them too much? What people seemed to forget was the circumstances surrounding our life at home when we were coming up. She had to be both mother and father to us. Yes, we had a father there, in body. It was mama who did for us, it was mama who watched out for us, it was mama who calmed our fears. It was mama who said that one day things would get better for us, that the light at the end of the tunnel wasn't an oncoming train. She was right.
Theresa Smith was born on December 3, 1925 in Materson, NJ. She died in Williamsville on March 2, 2005, at age 80. Theresa Smith was great grandmother of one, grandmother of five of us, mother of three, sibling of three sisters and two brothers, and wife to one great man, my grandfather, Ron Smith.
I can say that he died peacefully in a beautiful place and I can say that he probably died proud, not just proud of the determined recovery he had made from a car accident this past winter, but proud of living his life as he always had - making his own choices and choosing his own path. But these things will never be any real consolation to us for the 20 years more that my father should have been with us, sharing his unique mix of stubbornness, humor, wisdom, cynicism, and especially love - a love of life, a love of his family and a love of his community.
When I think of Mary Helen Smith, also known to me as Grandma, I think of learning, laughter and love.
Experiencing hard times is something that human beings endure at some point in their life: Death being one of them. Death affects everyone, whether it is a family member, a close friend, or even a pet, losing someone or something is still a hardship that is never easy to encounter. Gustave Flaubert said, “A friend who dies, it’s something of you who dies”. I could not agree more with this quote. Dealing with the loss of a friend so close to you, takes a part of you away as well. No parent should ever have to bury his or her own child and no thirteen year old should have to face such a loss at a young age, however, on April 21, 2011, my whole life changed.
I wrote two things about my mother that sum us up pretty well. One was called, You’re Perfect... And I Love You. It was a short story about myself struggling with the idea that if I could be the best, my mother would still love me. It won first prize in a writing contest, and I couldn’t hold my tears back as I read the three pages of my life to a room of people I didn’t know. Somewhere in that story are lines expressing the pain of my mother’s absence at every school function, and somewhere in that moment is irony that she wasn’t in that audience either.
I have never had any trouble singing my mother’s praises. My friends and family know that I always appreciated and admired her. I never hesitated to include her in my activities or gatherings, knowing full well that she would probably be the most interesting person there. A testament to this was the wide variety of age groups and people she had as friends.
My niece walked up to the tree to sing a song while my uncle spread her ashes, and we all sat on the trailer awaiting her final departure. She started to sing, and then the ashes flew. It was windy that day and it carried her ashes much further than intended; this made me very emotional. I kept thinking, “that’s my grandma; she’s just a pile of dust flying in the air.” I began to cry hysterically to the point where I couldn’t breathe or see. “She was a person, I could have spent more time with her, what if she didn’t know how much I loved her?”, were the words that kept repeating in my mind. My whole family was in shock at how badly I was taking it, especially since I was not close to her. I, myself, couldn’t even grasp why it was tearing me apart so badly, and then it hit me; she died knowing that I had gone nowhere in my life; she died and was never able to feel proud of me; she died with the belief I will always be the person I was. This was the turning point that would change my life
As a University student now looking back on the past, all the trials and hardships, my grandmother passing was not all dreadful. In fact, this dreadful event actually opened up my eyes for me to reach my highest peak. It has taught me to be strong and proactive. In addition, it taught me that I should get all I can while I am alive and do not take anything, such as education, for granted.
One day my mother said to me “Can you bring this basket of goodies to Grandma please?”
Every so often she would take the whole family to visit her birthplace. She would take us to the river where she had fun swimming and fishing with her own brothers and sisters. She encouraged us to climb the old trees that she loved. She would show us all the different kind of aromatic plants that her grandma and her own mother used to remedy different ailments. And at night, her relatives (cousins, aunts, uncles, nephews and nieces) we would all gather around a bonfire. The adults would encourage all the children and we’d all take turns telling cheesy jokes. There were lots of singing, laughter, and more than enough food and drinks for everyone. It was important for my mother to stay in touch with her roots. It was not uncommon; we always had either my father’s or her relatives staying with us. And as a family we enjoyed having them stay with us. Looking back, it still amazes me how she made it all work. I know we did not have much, but somehow I did not feel I lack for anything. She was a natural at turning mundane tasks into something fun. She was
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.
When I was younger, I had friends, but I was the person who did not want to dance at birthday parties. I was someone who enjoyed talking to the lunch moms instead of playing on the playground. I was shy and my mom handled everything for me. Until now, I did not know how much work went into raising me. I never knew that there were deadlines to paying bills or that appointments had to be made in advance, but everything changed one morning when I woke up to the blaring sound of my mom’s alarm. I was confused because she was a light sleeper, and I became anxious. I ran into her room, and immediately I knew something was wrong. The death of my mother during the first month of my eighth grade year, as a single event, did not instantly mark my transition to adulthood, but it did change my life forever. My mother died before she was able to watch me graduate middle school, before she was able to teach me how to drive, and before she was able to share all of her wisdom. Her death was the most painful experience I have ever encountered, but I was lucky enough