Eulogy for My Mother

Margaret May Grebe

Born April 2, 1929 in Baltimore, Maryland

Lived in Washington, DC; Hyattsville, Maryland; Bolingbrook, Illinois;

Waldorf and La Plata, Maryland

Died January 4, 2013 in Plainsboro, New Jersey

Several years ago, when my mother was first diagnosed with breast cancer she specifically said that she did not want me to blog or post on Facebook anything about her illness.  In April 2012 she learned that the disease had metastasized to her lungs and liver, and in November, we learned that it had further spread to her brain.  Four days into 2013, she lost the fight, peacefully, gracefully and on her own terms.

I will be forever thankful to the family and friends who helped and supported her from the time she was first diagnosed in 2009, to her New Jersey oncologist and radiation oncologist for the thoughtful care provided her in the late stages of her fight, and to Princeton Hospice who made the last week of her life comfortable.

So now I am trying to learn how to live without having Mom around.  I still want to pick up the phone or go to her room when something happens and I need someone to listen to me ramble, rant and rave. One of her best skills was listening while not trying to 'fix' everything that was being ranted about.  She knew when it was just steam that needed to be release, and that is a gift.

There are recipes that I wanted her to teach me, Rouladen, Bohnesalat, red cabbage, cucumber salad - the vinegar-based one and the sour cream-based cream one and more, but I will try on my own to figure it out or head to Florida where Mom's cousin, Mina lives.  Micah loves Oma's scrambled eggs, which use the same ingredients that I use, but somehow the 'Oma touch' elevated them to a new culinary level.  Thea's favorite is Oma's stuffed peppers, though she aggravates Oma as I once did by not eating the pepper shell - and my mother was much more indulgent of this in a grandchild.  I will miss going to the German Deli in Virginia with her.

Mom's chocolate chip cookies simply go down as legendary, and she said that she did nothing other than put a sprinkle of water over the dough.

I am also remembering all the things she has taught me.  First and foremost, how to be a good friend.  Mom had a gift for keeping in touch with people, she wrote notes, cards, sent off articles and other things that she thought the recipient would enjoy.  I received more mail in one year from Mom than most of my friends got in four years of college.  She would do anything for her friends and family and her door was always open.  And she became friends with a number of our friends.  I was still bringing friends home, even while I was in nursing school.

Mom taught me that it is important to be present and involved in your children's lives by volunteering to be a room mother, helping with the Girl Scouts.

And she was always open to new things.  She was not afraid to try line-dancing, and continue trying, and continue to try, because she enjoyed doing it.  (I on the other hand accepted my total lack of rhythm and coordination from an early age.) She tried out various crafts, with varying degrees of success, and I think part of it was more to enjoy the company of her friends than the finished product.

I am thankful to all those who were able to take time on a cold, grey day to attend Mom's service.  I thought because of the almost two weeks time that had elapsed between the time she died to the first available date for burial at the Maryland Veterans Cemetery that my feelings would not be as raw.  And then my nine-year old daughter who has only been playing the viola for three months played Beethoven's Ode to Joy at the beginning of the service, and then the neighbor who lived across the street from Mom in Waldorf told how things that Mom just did because that was just Mom were so very meaningful to her even now, and I was just sunk.  The advantage of being in the front row was that I was close to a box of tissues.

And to all those who have sent cards with kind words and a memory of Mom to share with us, thank you as well.

I am thankful to my brother, who made all the arrangements for the viewing, funeral and luncheon. 

I will love her and miss her forever, I know that wherever she has gone, cancer did not go with her.  Most of all, thank you, Margaret Grebe, for being my mother.  I wish I had had the composure to say this on Thursday.