A Most Remarkable Birthday Party
NOTE: This is the follow-up to “A Most Remarkable Long Goodbye,” recently published by The Conversation Project, shared with readers last week. It hasn’t been submitted to media outlets, and is especially for you.
The End…Really Isn’t
After saying goodbye to Mom, several tasks needed completing before returning to Georgia, including a visit to the memory care center which served as her home for the past seven years, and later to the funeral home where Mom had arranged for services twenty years earlier.
Entering the center, we found caregivers that appeared to have been crying for days. They were broken. Patrice and I spent the first half of our visit providing comfort to them. Skills acquired across a lifetime spent taking care of others proved useful.
After sorting through clothes to donate to other residents, only cards and letters received over years, a hairbrush, a Cornell Class of ’84 baseball hat, a raincoat, a North Face fleece, a blanket, and two Bibles remained.
Enough to occupy one medium sized storage bin. Stunning.
Candidly, I hit the wall during our meeting with the funeral director. It was one of those “Don’t Know, Don’t Care” moments. I gave myself the gift of a closed mouth, allowing the director to do her job.
Learning our role, what we could control, and the decisions required were enough for this day. Grabbing a card, sharing thanks, and committing to e-mail communication within the next few days, Patrice and I quickly found I-81 and began driving. In silence.
A Different Direction
Realizing that the next several hours would involve telephone calls to our kids, family, and close friends, decisions about “What” and “When” became priorities. Otherwise, the certainty of Mom’s passing and the uncertainty of events to follow would unnecessarily compound people’s pain.
It didn’t take long to dismiss the idea of a traditional funeral. Lots of tears…and black. Grim. Whispers. People find it hard to reminisce and remember the person until it is too late, or they’ve had too much to drink – or both. Certainly, there are exceptions. I’ve attended several which were neither grim nor quiet. Nevertheless, a celebration of life it would be.
Selecting a date was much more difficult. NEPA weather sucks in late February. March is Spring Break territory, and March 31 was Easter and Patrice’s birthday.
St. Patrick’s Day, and my birthday was briefly considered, then quickly rejected. Yet we hung on to the notion of a birthday celebration, which resulted in April 30 – Mom’s birthday – as the date for her service.
We gave our Apple CarPlay a workout over the next several hundred miles, telling people what we could about Mom and the “What” and “When” that lie ahead.
Writing About Someone Who Meant Everything
The first full day back home was a Sunday, with calls, texts, and messages to write and return. At five o’clock, while Patrice was starting dinner, I sat down to write Mom’s obituary.
Days earlier, the funeral director had offered to do this. All we needed to do was provide information to fill in the blanks, and a proforma announcement would be created.
I remember saying, “Thanks anyway. I’ll send you a document and picture before Monday, OK?”
Looking at a blank screen was like taking a test in a class I’d never attended, and a score of 100 was required to pass.
Eventually, I just began typing. Three hours later, I finished.
It was important – to me – that nothing important be left out. Paying a lasting tribute to someone you’ve loved happens…once. Without the possibility of a do-over.
Though tempted to share this in its entirety, these were the must-haves highlighted in Mom’s public tribute:
Family, present and past. Mother and father, sisters and brothers, sons and daughters-in-law, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces and nephews
Education, and 54 year career in Nursing, with a variety of leadership roles across the spectrum of healthcare
An endowed chair, created at Temple University’s Department of Nursing, College of Public Health, recognizing her 50th anniversary in nursing and professional contributions
Love for animals. Ours was a household of stray dogs and cats. Most arrived in our yard, and spent the rest of their lives in our home
Food, specifically “the original Coney Island Texas Wieners” and “the best pizza made on this Earth”
Baseball, the likes of which involved hundreds of games, thousands of practices, and several thousand more games on television
I’ve known people who have questioned the purpose of obituaries, finding them unnecessarily congratulatory or irrelevant. The experience of writing – this one – makes me question what those people are thinking.
Program
Welcome
Opening Hymn – ‘In the Garden’, performed by Rosemary Siemens
Reading – Psalm 23, King James Version - ‘The Lord is My Shepherd’ – by Rigo Lemoncelli
Reading – ‘Feel No Guilt in Laughter’ – by Brynn Devereaux
‘Nurse Ann’ – by Patrice Devereaux
Reading – ‘GrandMother’ – by Christine Devereaux Evangelista
Opportunity for Friends to share thoughts about Ann
Group – ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ *printed in program
Mom: as Parent, as Mentor, as Friend – by Dave Devereaux
Closing Song – ‘What’s New Pussycat?’ performed by Tom Jones
Birthday Party at Colarusso’s Café to follow
Notes
Flowers – McCarthy/Remick (Jenny) – delivered before 9A on 4/30, or afternoon/evening of 4/29.
Easel – provided by Lawrence E. Young. Will bring canvas to funeral home in AM on 4/30.
Songs – specific versions to Karen @ Lawrence E. Young. Can send links to music and lyrics if needed.
In the Garden by Rosemary Siemens (www.youtube.com)
What’s New Pussycat? by Tom Jones (www.youtube.com)
Readings – people have their materials.
Colarusso’s – Kerri (570) 586-0608, $18.95/person, 40 ppl. We’ll take leftovers home.