- Eulogy of
Gladys Margaret Pearson
7 April 1928 - 20 July 1999
I am Jay, Gladys Moore's first born child and I'd like to welcome you here with us.
I am grateful for so many things - for the wonderful expressions of sympathy and the sharing of so many memories from all the people who have come here yesterday and today; for all the members of our family and for my aunts and uncles who have all rallied round and been such a great support through this time of shock and separation; for all of you here today participating in this celebration of a life well-lived and helping us say good-bye to my mother. For all these things, I am grateful.
Three years ago, I stood here in this same room and delivered the eulogy for my father. Most of you were here then, too. Little did any of us know that we'd be gathered together again for Gladys so soon. As I began to think of what I might say, I remembered the theme in my father's eulogy was "His Legacy." As I continued to think about Mom, a theme emerged and it was this: "Her Teachings." She taught us so much. She certainly taught through her words but I want to share with you today what she taught us through the example of her life.
She taught us that life is fragile and she showed this knowledge through how she lived and how she died. She knew life could end at any time and she was prepared. She appreciated living and she accepted death.
When I started to pull my thoughts together, the first word that came to mind was "fearless." I'm not saying she was never afraid but she approached so many things in life fearlessly. She didn't second guess herself and had very few doubts. By her actions, she taught us to have the courage of our convictions. She taught us that there is great strength in deep faith.
As with all great strengths, however, there is a often a weakness hidden inside that strength. Sometimes that single-mindedness we experienced made it difficult for her to make room for another point of view and to have understanding about why someone might wish to do things differently. As she aged, she mellowed and accepting others became easier, although she was still biting her tongue sometimes. Some may say that she should have bitten her tongue more often than she did.
Gladys Moore was not a hypocrite, even to a critical eye. She was a woman of principle - she said what she meant and meant what she said. This quality is more rare among us than it should be. We all know of people or perhaps know of ourselves that we may say one thing and do another, even in very innocent ways. This didn't happen very often with Mom. She taught us to have congruence, that is, to have our thoughts, feelings, beliefs and actions all match and to be true to ourselves.
Another message she delivered by her actions was very similar to this: go with your strengths. She was not a sentimental or affectionate person and she didn't pretend to be. Her strengths were in reaching out to others, in making connections, in participating. I'd like to read an excerpt from something I wrote for Mother's Day last year.
"My mom was the best mom in the neighbourhood when I was a boy. She could throw a baseball better than any other mom I knew. She was often the one to suggest we go out and play catch or hit a few grounders for practice. Dad didn't like sports much. When he wasn't cutting the back field or fixing the car, he liked to sleep with the newspaper. When the Young People's group from our church came out to our place for a baseball game and cornroast, Mom would be the pitcher for her team. She was a good pitcher. She even owned her own baseball glove. I was so proud of her."
Another strength was in her thinking ability and she challenged us to think. The dinner table in our house when I was a boy and whenever we got together in later years was a place of debate, of probing, thoughtful questions that she would pose, a place of learning. She taught us to use our heads and to speak our minds. Even as late as two weeks ago, she and I had a conversation that was really a respectful debate about some issues that were unresolved between us for many years. True to herself, she was open, spoke her mind and listened and we came to an understanding with each other. I will always be grateful to her for giving me the opportunity to do this before she was so suddenly taken.
But the flipside to this strength in her ability to think was that sometimes emotions were a mystery and not only the emotions of others, which sometimes just didn't make sense to her, but I think her own emotions were perhaps the most mysterious. A recent example of this is how she experienced the time after the death of my father. Many of us know that, when one loses a spouse, the pain may never go away. I'm sure that Gladys thought that, after a respectable period, she would pick herself up, dust herself off and get on with life. On the outside, that's what she did but on the inside there was always a large hole in her heart, a deep sadness, a place that was empty without Joe and those who knew her well could see it. Many of us understand and accept these normal emotions but she seemed surprised sometimes by her own feelings of grief. What she taught us by her actions was the importance of love between two people. Their marriage was a testament to that deep and abiding love. They were in love to the very end.
Mom was in charge. She took charge of whatever needed to be taken charge of and when she wasn't in charge, she wished she was. She was in charge right to the end. In fact, she's still in charge today. A few weeks ago, she wrote out her funeral service and we are all following her directions in this service, including me as I give this eulogy. The last time I saw her in the hospital after the heart attack, she was graceful, composed and "in charge," giving instructions to the nurses, happy and prepared for the next adventure.
Mom was a traveler. She was always going somewhere and never to the same place twice. For Mom, this was one more journey. Her bags were packed and she was ready to go. In my mind's eye I can see her smiling and waving, off on her next adventure saying, "
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1928 - 1999 (71 years)
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