As my family was boarding a recent flight back to Copenhagen, my 6 year old
daughter started crying. She told my wife "I miss Grandma".
She remembered that we were supposed to be visiting my mother
this past week. It would have been the first time the kids enjoyed the warm east
coast of America
during the beginning of summer. In addition, we were going to celebrate Grandma's birthday and mine.
Because we live in Sweden, my daughter has had less
than ten visits with my mother, although the emotion she felt warmed my heart.
She loved her Grandma.
My mother died almost two months ago. It was a hectic time
as her illness took a dire turn for the worse, but thankfully I made it home for her final
24 hours. Writing about that experience was something I needed to share.
During the last 60 days, I've been reflecting on my mother's
Memorial Celebration, which took place on May 11, 2015. Those two hours have
comforted me immensely and helped to ease the pain of losing her.
Once my wife, cousin, uncle, aunt and I were seated, I
noticed that only 30-40 people were inside. What I had forgotten about is the
tradition of guests arriving to greet those family members in the front
row.
The loving words I heard weren't unexpected as I knew my mother loved
deeply and gave with all her heart. What was unexpected were the private
stories whispered in my ear; some from people I had never met before.
One was particularly memorable as a woman I didn't know,
told me how much she appreciated Mom faithfully visiting her dying mother and
doing whatever she could to help ease the burden. That was classic IGP
(Isabella G. Payne), being there for those in need.
I noticed that the place was filling up and there was
still a long line of greeters.
Throughout, there were an inordinate amount of people from
one of my mother's favorite charities - The Central PA Food Bank. She volunteered there for 17 years. I greeted at least 15, including one woman who wrote me the
most beautiful personal note about her friendship with Mom - words I had
someone read at the Memorial.
The people kept coming. It was starting to get warm (86f
outside) so I had them crank up the air conditioner. A cool atmosphere is
critical for times like this. All the hand held fans disappeared.
It was a good thing the place was able to expand, as they
needed to slide panels away and bring in more chairs. By the time the
greeting line ended, it was standing room only. There were approx 225 people
there.
The celebration started beautifully as Mom's good friend and Pastor (Thornell Strawn) set the tone. He gracefully paraphrased what my mother had
told him during her last hours.
"If they are expecting a funeral, tell them to go Home.
I want it to be a celebration".
And a celebration it was, led by Pastor Strawn. He ran the program flawlessly and was relaxed, warm and in the moment.
There were two singers selected by my mother. One a man
(Mario Witt), who sang a favorite song of Mom's. The other was by Alice Penn, who has a
lovely voice. Both songs joyfully lifted the room higher as music often does. I
wish they had sung two songs each.
3 people spoke.
Mom's good friend Mary Alice Crosson began and celebration
was on top of her mind. She was witty, sincere and captured the essence of
Mom as a friend. The crowd was smiling during her 10 minutes; a speech she did
without notes.
My dear cousin Andrea Nolley was next. She was like a daughter to
my mom and knew her as well as anyone. In my absence, she looked after her
better than I ever expected. I'll be forever grateful for that act of love.
Her speech was eloquent and moving. The audience was
listening intently and she couldn't have honored her Aunt any better. Not
long after, My wife Matilda mentioned how impressed she was. Andrea was a hard
act to follow.
I was third in line and talked about motherhood and
the lessons/values Mom instilled in me.
A passage is below.
"As a mother, she was primarily about 3 things….Love,
Discipline and Dedication. She taught me well and provided many lessons along
the way. I affectionately called my mother IGP (her initials) sometimes, and
IGP was very focused on making sure that she raised a good son. She was no
nonsense and uncompromising on the values she wanted to instill in me, yet she
always surrounded me with fun, happiness and love. I couldn’t have asked for a
better childhood."
I ended the talk by reading a favorite poem I had written
for her almost 15 years ago to the day. I held my emotions together as I knew I
would. It was only the last few lines when I felt my insides begin to quiver and my lips start to tremble.
Mom's eulogy was given by a deacon (Joe Robinson) at my
Mom's church. I had heard him speak numerous times and he never disappointed.
Mom had asked him to do this five years ago.
His story of Mom's giving nature was superb. He compared her
experience to a woman in the bible and provided a powerful lesson. I have no
doubt he inspired many to rethink how they give to the world. In addition, he
talked about how focused and diligent she was in rising to important jobs
during her 35 years in state government; something not easy for a black woman to do
back in those days.
And the spirit of the moment caught him more than once,
often speaking extemporaneously and with a fiery passion. It was obvious he
put an immense amount of thought into the eulogy, which I appreciated. At one point he said to the crowd "I'm almost
finished", although I was hoping he was not. My hope was fulfilled as his
wonderful words kept dancing, much to my delight.
After the Memorial, we invited the crowd to enjoy a meal at
the room above. It was the perfect ending to what was a magnificent
celebration...exactly what my mother wanted.
In the week after, Mom's 84 year old Brother (Stewart
Robinson) said to me three times how impressed he was with the Memorial. That
felt good as Andrea and I wanted it to be special for Mom's siblings.
My Mom would have been 78 years old today (June 28). The physical is
gone but her spirit of love, compassion and giving shines brightly.
Happy Birthday IGP.
Happy Gswede Sunday!
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| Donald, Isabella and George Payne - 1977 (Grandfather's 70th Birthday) |
