Eulogy for Queen Rose

Today, we sent away Queen Rose, my Mother, with much love and respect.  These are the words I squeakily spoke in remembrance of her. 

We were all rotten kids.  Except when we were being the surprise angels, showing her love in unexpected moments: the home made card, the scrawled picture of two blobs connected by a line where someone else wrote, “I love you, Mommy;” the fly-by hug on the way to play with friends; the tiny frog brought in to show her, which then leapt from tiny hands into her freshly poured glass of RC cola.  Rotten kids. 

She had her hands full with us, and it was a beautiful thing.  I don’t have any specific stories to tell, only impressions of the feelings I had – brief glimpses of this moment or that adventure, but not really a whole story to tell.  I can say there was always love. No matter what was happening, no matter what we had done, her actions were driven by love.

 

And that love manifested in more ways than just how she raised her children.  She showed her love in art, as you can see here in this room; she showed her love in music, and if you never sat with her while she hummed along with the radio, I feel very badly for you; she showed her love in the kitchen, with every meal she made - with whatever she could scrape together (a lack of ingredients could be easily overcome);  she showed her love in words – teaching her children to speak clearly so we would be understood; and she showed her love in acts of kindness – always willing to help someone in need. 

I can’t give you specific memories of my Queen Rose, but I can tell you what I feel, and what I have always felt, when I think of her name, her face, her voice.  I think of Love.