To Sum it All Up - I Can't.

How do you sum up a person’s life into 20 lines of text? I found myself in the position of writing my mother’s obituary this past week; a task that came a few years early because ovarian cancer sucks. Seriously, if you don’t know anything about this particular cancer, it’s extra aggressive and shitty (pardon my French), and there are no regular screenings for it that are currently practiced. Many women don’t know they have it until secondary symptoms present themselves, and this often means stage 3 or 4 diagnoses from the get go. I digress. See, I didn’t intend to be the one writing the obituary; but, once I saw the draft version come in from the funeral home I knew “that isn’t good enough”. And so, I found myself re-writing and adding information. I desired to add more, but didn’t want to make it a 10 minute read.

So again, how do you sum up a whole person, full of love, interests, talents, joy, sorrows, years of experiences into 20 lines of an obituary. When the funeral home started to gather information to write it, they started with “what did Jackie like to do?”, “what was she like?”, and for me it became that ‘game’ you find yourself involved in at a work training, or in a new committee where everyone has to say something interesting about themselves. You question whether you’ve ever had an interesting thought or talent in your life. What is there to share about you? Mind - blank. This woman who raised me, who has been my best friend for years, I had nothing to offer. Once I had time to think about it and my words began to flow to me, I had too many thoughts.

How do you take the proper time to mention that this mother of mine was the strongest, bravest person I have known. Every circumstance life threw at her, she took in silent stride. Not to say she didn’t ever struggle or feel like a situation was unfair, but if she did, she quickly shook it off and began the fight. Underplaying her difficulties or troubles, in light of fighting back, or making the most of a situation in whatever capacity she could.

Or the way she cared for others in a quiet, but fierce way. Even if you weren’t related to her, if you were her friend you were fiercely protected and always knew a listening ear if you needed one. In fact, these things continue to show up, even in the days and weeks following her passing. So many people share with me that they will miss her listening ear and quick wit and humor that always came with a response from her. She made friends and kept friends for life. She allowed even the nurses at the hospital and at infusions vent to her, and always shared that they appreciated her ability to listen and be reflective. They also appreciated that she was sarcastic and witty, and could make a person feel heard, while making them laugh as well. We often shared a laugh throughout the years, whether while watching our favorite comfort shows together, or spending time with family, we always valued humor in our house. These traits made her stand out in her work as well; so many former and current co-workers came to celebrate her life and shared with me that they missed her support, love, and wit over the years, making work more bearable in small but meaningful ways.

Her faith drove everything she did. She grew up in the Methodist church, and although the “label” changed when she moved to Ohio and became a member of the Lutheran church, her faith never outwardly wavered. I’m not going to speculate that she never had times where she doubted or faltered, because we all do; however, outwardly, she remained steady and realistic about the challenges of this world and how her faith drove her. She always volunteered with the church in various capacities over the years, but seemed to especially like her time with the youth group where she got to foster faith in others. She also loved to sing in the choir, and use her financial knowledge and talents to serve the church as well.

Her hobbies over the years changed, and I’m sure there are many things she was interested in that I didn’t know about. Throughout her life she loved to swim. Competitively in high school, and then just for good exercise throughout her adult years. She also was very interested in learning and reading. She valued education and school, and always instilled that in me while growing up. My love of books came from her, and even until her last weeks, she was an avid reader of a variety of topics. She also loved puzzles; my love of jigsaw puzzles stems from her as well. This was something she grew up doing and watching her parents be interested in, and continued into her adulthood. But, she also loved logic and crossword puzzles. In fact, many a Dell Logic Puzzle books were purchased for her many trips to infusions or hospital stays to keep her mind active and occupied. She also was one to write things down. Whether it was a thought that occupied her mind, or something she felt she wanted to remember, she wrote or typed her thoughts. Like me, she took time to think about her words and was often more easily able to articulate her feelings on a topic after a few hours to ponder and write down thoughts, than in the moment.

How do you give proper time to her love of gardening? The “regular” kind where she would grow vegetables galore in the yard every year and turn them into delicious recipes, as well as the “flower” kind where she kept her flower beds and pots arranged throughout the year with vibrant colors. She also had a large interest in fairy gardening, and had several that she maintained over the years, both that lived outside all year, ones that were inside, and some that migrated as the weather changed. She did well keeping her plants alive and well, and it always impressed me, since I tend to kill any plant that requires regular watering or maintenance of any kind. Part of her decompression time at the end of a long day was to stroll the garden, pull weeds, water the plants, or rearrange things as needed.

She loved to travel. In her younger years, she did an internship with the Army that took her to Europe. She talked about that trip with me several times, and talked about returning to several of the countries she had once seen in later years when she was retired and had more time. When I was growing up, we took almost yearly trips with my grandparents, whether it was just a few days away to a Michigan destination, or a week in D.C., or Toronto, she loved to explore new places and expose me to a variety of cultures and places. She took me to Seattle to celebrate my high school graduation, and we enjoyed a trip to New Mexico with my step-dad, Dave, shortly after they were married. Most recently, I insisted we find a time to go visit her sisters and new great-nephew in South Carolina. How much I will cherish that memory now, as we got to take one last girls trip, this time with my daughter, instead of my grandmother, about a month before she passed. I caught the travel bug, and will always think of her when I want to go to a new place, or experience something new.

She loved animals, especially dogs. She always talked to me about how she loved her dog, Dolly, growing up. She also had cats in her lifetime, and we had a bird for a while when I was growing up (I can’t remember the story of how we ended up with Sparkle, but..) but the constant was dogs. When I was young I begged for a pet, and we rescued dogs for years to come after that. When my husband and I got a puppy in 2020, and sometimes required help to let him out during the work day as we potty-trained, my mom was always willing to come and let him out, play with him, and enjoy a break from work to spend it here. Most summer nights she could be found on the back porch of the house, reading a book, and talking to her dogs. She loved taking them on walks until she was physically unable to.

Music also had a huge impact in her life. From a young age she immersed herself in choirs, and playing the piano and cello. She enjoyed teaching piano to me over the years and sitting down together at the piano in our house to mess around. Later in life as she fell away from practice with her cello, she decided that while I took piano lessons at the church, she would take up organ lessons. Always challenging herself to learn something new, and something where she could play her favorite hymns and sing along. I have fond memories of putting on a record and turning up the volume while we cleaned the house, decorated for a holiday, or just had a relaxing Saturday at home.

Overall, the cornerstone of what made Jackie, Jackie was her love and value of family. A lot of people say this, and family is important to a lot of people, but this is one of the biggest things I have learned from my mom over the years. From a young age I learned from watching her that family is there for one another; family visits each other often, works through their problems, calls frequently, and just shows up no matter what. The love and humor that always accompanied a family gathering was tangible and warm, that made me want to seek it and participate in it every time it was an option from a young age. Even in the end, at the hospital, the nurses noted that they loved our family. They saw how Jackie got to be the way she was. They appreciated that we all could remain in a room together without descending into squabbling and fighting, or bickering. They laughed with us, they cried with us, and they watched on as my 95 year old grandmother came in and sat at my mom’s beside and told her she had loved having her as a daughter for all those years, and she was sorry mom had to be so sick in the end. The amount of love poured out to others in our family for years, poured back tenfold in the end to her. A testament to the importance of family and caring for others.

She met my step-dad, Dave, when I was 13 - after years of putting me first and focusing her time on raising me. She more than deserved this change of pace, even though as a bratty teenager I thought it was the worst thing ever because I now had to share my mom with someone else. How beautiful for me now to sit back and think about all those happy years she got to love someone else, going on coffee dates, ice skating trips, and many trips to northern Michigan. New interests and loves showed themselves to me through this relationship, that I now am so, so thankful for. She found herself a partner to enrich the last 13 and a half years of her life; someone who kept her young and interested in new things, a companion, and someone who truly never left her side in sickness and in health until death parted them.

And oh the joy, to watch my mom with my daughter from the beginning. If you thought she was dedicated to helping us raise our puppy, boy oh boy, the next level love and dedication that came when my daughter was born was unreal. She was here every other day in the beginning to get a baby snuggle, or to help with chores around the house. She always knew the right thing to do that would take some stress off my mind. She adored her granddaughter the way every grandmother should, and received that adoration right back. The day she passed, she slowly became more quiet, and less alert as her body failed her and she received more pain medication to keep her comfortable. However, that morning, we had brought my daughter to the hospital to say goodbye and to let grandma feel her presence there in the room. With her squeals of delight, or games she played with other family members, we would say to mom “do you hear your girl?” and she would smile a little or nod her head. Until the end, she loved my girl so fiercely and found so much joy in spending time with her. (Although she would also tell me she didn’t envy me having to raise her with the level of sass she displays. A trait that is passed right on down through my grandma, to my mom, to me, and now to my daughter. Ha!) How my grief is multiplied in trying to manage my own loss, as well as help my daughter navigate her understanding and loss as well.

How do you sum up a person’s life into 20 lines of text? If you’re lucky, you can’t. If you’re blessed with an overall happy relationship with someone who you will miss dearly for the rest of your life, you can’t sum them up simply, because a life is worth so much more remembrance and time than what we typically can give. I feel so blessed that I got 29 years with my mom; do I wish there were 29 more years? Absolutely. I wish there was even 1 more. For me. For my step-dad. For my daughter. And for all who loved Jackie, and were loved by Jackie. But in a small way, my heart is at peace. Her body was suffering so much, even though she never led on to the extent of it. She made her choice to cease the fight and believe in the promise of her faith; that there is no pain, no suffering, and no tears on the other side. I have to cling to this as well, to know I will see her again one day, and oh the joy in that reunion. Don’t wait until it’s too late to tell people what you admire about them, what you love about them, and what joy they bring to your life. And if you find yourself writing an obituary for someone you care about, know that it’s OK to feel like it’s “not enough”, even if it’s 6 pages long.