My Grandma, (Virginia) Jean See passed on Friday, June 29, 2012. I was honoured to deliver the eulogy at her funeral shortly after on Thursday, July 12, 2012. Something of the moment is inevitably lost in the text, but keeping the words said helps keep the 'memory' of it close for those of us who were there.
It is truly an honour and a privilege to be able
to share memories of grandma with her family and dearest of friends. Of course, each of us gathered here today has many
wonderful memories of Grandma that are worthy to be shared. Many knew her more, or longer or differently. Our stories will be different of course, but all
equally important to keeping her memory alive and honouring the women, wife, mother,
grandmother, great grandmother, daughter, sister and friend. I'd encourage us all to share those wonderful memories
and stories so that together we can work through the sadness of this time.
But even more to celebrate.
Yes celebrate! Celebrate her life, celebrate the days we
shared together, celebrate the impact she has had on each one of us. And most importantly, celebrate her warm reception
into the loving hands of the King, the Father, the Great Comforter. Grandma is with Jesus. She is at peace with the Prince of Peace. She feels no pain or sadness anymore...only happiness
and joy. She is home...forevermore.
On the day she passed, I can tell you the
heavens had a great feast to welcome His prodigal daughter home. Turkey
(vacuumed clean of course), chicken and biscuits and slow cooker meat balls
with a side of salted peanuts for dinner.
Lemon meringue pie and shortbread cookies for dessert. I bet Grandma even tried to get back into the
kitchen to help! Even in heaven she
cannot help herself. And her laugh...her
laugh filled the halls the entire night.
I heard rumours she danced the night away with a certain dark haired
gentleman named Ronald while Guy Lombardo led His band of angels.
Friends, she is in a better place. In this I am sure... and in this, we ourselves
can find comfort. And yet, we are still left
a little lost. We lost a little of ourselves
from her passing. And we'll miss her. That is the bitter sweetness of this time losing
someone we loved so much but knowing how much we gained being loved by her. And sometimes it's this feeling that causes us
to be better ourselves. Spurred by good,
we want to do better ourselves.
I'm second of nine grandkids
to (Virginia) Jean and Ronald See, second son to Larry and Cheryl (Grandma's first
born), father to three of her 10 great grandchildren (Matthew...her first, Sophie,
and William). But no matter the
number...to Grandma, always first...all 9 of us grandchildren and all 10 of her
great grandchildren, all ways and always...first. She had a way of making us feel that way. I remember playing as a child with grandma's
tiny china figurines from her curio cabinet.
She showed tremendous trust to a 6-year playing with such delicate
treasures.
For my children, Matthew, Sophie and William,
no different. She seemed just to know
their shirt sizes, what colour they liked, what they were into. Even though she was separated by time and
space, she took the time to know these things.
And despite the fact that she herself had such modest means, always a Christmas or birthday present that was generous and just cool. She was a fun and cool 85 year-old
grandma! May sound like such simple
things, but I always saw them as a relentless genuine caring for her family. And even though she got older and the family
grew and moved farther away, it was always her first priority...her centre...her
reason for being. That has and continues to inspire me to be a better husband
and father and son.
I've been up at a cottage with my family for
the past few days thinking about what I wanted to share with you today. She was someone that you just wanted to be
with whether you were 6 or 36. So many
stories of time well spent. And as I
thought through my childhood experiences, what I discovered was that any one of
my memories of grandma are completely inseparable from my memories of my Papa
(Ronald See - who we lost nearly 15 years ago).
From day picnics at Dupont beach, to sleepovers or Christmas Eve at Grandma
and Papa's, Grandma and Papa always seemed to be together, they seemed to
perfectly complement each other. They were one.
They were great, they really were. To everyone that Papa met, he was beloved. He was a great man. And as I grew up, married and had children of
my own...getting an appreciation for how truly difficult it is...I began to
more fully understand Grandma's greatness. She was humble, decreasing so that those she loved
increased...allowing them to reach for their own greatness.
She worked hard...you could see that. She was strong. She was 5 feet but such a strong
and courageous lady. Few of us know the
kind of loss Grandma knew, losing Papa so suddenly. I cannot fathom that kind of loss...it must
have felt like losing herself because part of her was him and him her. One flesh.
And yet she carried on, never fully complete I'm sure, honouring him in
the act. It is the kind of marriage that
I always aspired to. It has driven me to
never compromise in the integrity of the institution. She taught me that marriage gives you the opportunity
to be better than you ever could have been alone.
And then she got sick and faced her own death. And yet she courageously carried on, sometimes
very sad, sometimes very defeated...but she carried on until the end. That my friends is courage. I pray that my loved ones never have to face
the pain and sadness that she did in her last days. My last memory of Grandma was in her living
room in Cobourg. Clearly struggling, tired,
white skin, grey hair and frail, so frail...and yet she made sure to get up and
search her cupboards to find some candies for my kids. And it was a moment for me...they were the
same kind of candies that she used to have ready in bowls when Geoff, Jeannette
and I would visit...now offered to my own children some 30 years later. Simple things I know, but I think true greatness
is found in simple acts of love, done out of love, over and over again.
She was smart and crafty. A card shark to be sure. Many hours were spent between my sister and
her playing gin rummy. She owned the
bridge tables at her Cobourg residency. Her
body failed her overtime, but never her mind. She was wise.
After I got engaged to Lesley, she gave me some very powerful words. At a passing glance, simple, just the kind of
thing people say. But I considered them
wise in that moment. And they continue to be. At hearing the news that Lesley and I were
engaged, she said to me privately "This will be the best decision of your
life." Understand that this came
only a few short years after Papa's passing and I felt that context very
clearly then. It could have been the
kind of thing people say, but it was more than that. It was the words unsaid, the words spoken
through her eyes and tone of voice.
This is what she said, "Mark, this is and
always will be the best decision of your life.
Nothing is more important. It is
what we are meant for. This is your
opportunity to find meaning and realize your potential. It is how you will impact the world. You will be a great husband and a great
father....you will love and serve your wife and your wife will make you a
better man. She will love you and care
for you and your children. Together under God, you
will raise great children and then your children's children. Like for Papa and I, it will be hard and you
must work hard but you will reap the never-ending joy of marriage and family. And when you're old and the days grow short, you
will be able to look back and be truly satisfied. Papa and I are proud."
It's natural in this time to reflect on the
impact Grandma had. It's a big part of
what we're doing here today. What did
her life mean? What did she leave behind? What was it all for? But how do you measure that? When my mom and sister were helping go
through Grandma's place they came across this quote which was obviously
important to her and poignantly speaks to her own impact on the world as I see
it.
"A hundred years from now, it will not
matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in or the kind of
car I drove...but the world may be different because I was important in the
life of a child."
That's what Grandma thought important and
that is the impact she truly had. She
lived in a one bedroom apartment, she didn't own a car, she had just enough to
live month to month...but she can be considered rich. She was important in the life of a child...this
child...many children in fact. From her
seven siblings, to her four children, to her nine grandchildren to her ten (and
growing) grandchildren...she was of great importance to each of us. We will remember. She will continue to impact us all and our
children and then their children. A life
well lived I'd say. And she wants the
same for everyone one of us...to live well, to love well.
Grandma was a fun lady, laughly loudly and
often...and every now and then she'd just break into song. I was flipping through my iPod as I was
preparing for this and came across a song from Guy Lombardo. I imagined Grandma singing it while carrying
in dishes to the kitchen. Don't really know
how it got there, but I just thought it fit 'this' so well...something Grandma
might have said or rather sang in such a moment and I'll let it be the final word:
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