Thursday, May 31, 2018

A tribute to Roselyn, my Encourager and Chief - You will be missed.



Curious we spend more time  congratulating people who have succeeded than encouraging people who have not.  - Neil deGrasse Tyson



My mother-in-law passed away last week.  Although most of us who loved her so were incredibly sad, we also rejoiced that she no longer had to tolerate dialysis 3 times a week (for the past 8 years) as we watched her world become smaller and smaller the last year or so with her inability to participate in family events, meals out, parties, and engaging with others outside the square footage of her house. I still struggle to seek the positives in times of loss, but, I am immensely grateful that she was able to remain in her home until the last few days of her life, thanks to a loving daughter who became a mother to her mother, primary caretaker, transporter, meal-maker, and companion. In the back of the minds of most of us aging boomers, we pray to be able to remain in familiar, comfortable surroundings with the kind of support she had.  It's not always (rarely) possible, I know, but, if anyone deserved to have whatever she wanted, it was Roselyn Mahoney. A life full of so many joys as well as deepest sorrow, her faith was steadfast - all the time.  At her vigil service the other night, the deacon ended it by saying, "If Roselyn wasn't in heaven, there is no hope for the rest of us." Her life was a gift to many, an unforgettable person who touched others in different ways.  Listening to a collection of stories from her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces, cousins, and friends, she represented various roles to all of them and left her unique impression;  A nurturing mother, a surrogate mother, a mentor, a wise counselor, a loyal, trusted friend, and a partner in crime. The word that I heard scattered across the conversations at calling hours and in tributes, was TEACHER. She was a 2nd grade teacher at a Catholic school for many years and former students remembered her as making a difference in their lives, but even into retirement, teaching was one of the things she did best.  She taught her great-grandchildren piano and love of music, how to bake, to love reading, and most especially, even the littlest ones,  card games.  Every opportunity she got to spend with them, were teaching moments.  She encouraged their curiosity and modeled learning as a lifelong endeavor because she knew that it would bring meaning and joy to their lives. She consumed the Wall Street Journal and Cleveland Plain Dealer and cut little articles out to share with her family.  An article about conditioning for dance for Miss Sydney, a craft idea for Cameron, and College articles for Alex.  And, for me, she consistently fed me articles about starting your own business, writing for a living, and putting your gifts into practice.  It was through this gentle guidance (without being pushy) that I came to realize, she was not just a teacher, but an ENCOURAGER.  

She sent notes to EVERYONE for EVERYTHING; thanking them, grieving with them, congratulating them, uplifting, and "just because".  Those notes, I'm sure have become treasured gold for many.  I have a stack of them myself.  She seemed to have an uncanny sense for when you needed it most. My most treasured note was the first anniversary of my beloved husband, her precious son's, death.  She slipped over to my house with flowers and a white envelope staying just long enough for a long hug and to wipe a few tears.  She requested I wait until she left to open my envelope.  Inside was a four page letter letting me know I was Mark's gift to the Mahoney family and I would always be one of them. And, she really loved me. She also gently reminded me that our focus and joy could be found in the anticipated arrival of a new baby- new life coming soon.  My first grandchild, her first great.  The ENCOURAGER, beckoning me to move forward into life again in anticipation, sharing that joy with my extended family. 

In the 24 hours since her funeral service, I'm profoundly feeling that all too familiar, gaping wound of loss.  I've learned the best salve to start healing a broken heart is to focus on the gifts. She gave me many. Giving birth to the man who became my soul mate and love of my life is a good place to start. And, an example of unconditional love as I struggled early on with the doctrine of a church that I wasn't certain I wanted to join. She neither pushed, judged, or condemned.  She just exemplified Jesus. I sat back and watched for awhile and began to see Him in both her, and my father-in-law, play out in real time.  Attraction rather than promotion. I wanted what they had, and later joined. I received an ENCOURAGER note then too. That choice became an important bond in my marriage as well as a deep comfort later, after his death. She loved my daughter dearly and was delighted to finally have a girl grand-daughter along with all those beloved grandsons.  When she became a great-grandma to my three girls, I felt blessed on their behalf.  She has been an integral part of their growing up years, actively interested and participating in their activities and lives. So many gifts from one loving woman.  

The last decade or so especially, as I've struggled and  floundered in my own attempts to find where I fit now; alone, a widow searching for answers to my big questions:  How do I bury the old dreams and plans, the way I saw my later years, not become bitter, and find a new purpose and vision?  What IS my purpose?  She became the ENCOURAGER once again. I loved spontaneously stopping in, visiting with her and listening to her life. With every story she shared with me of her own life, her young dreams and later, unbearable heartbreaks, I learned two things. One, we are here on this planet to reassure one another that we are not alone.  Second, life isn't stagnant, its ever-changing and we are called to encourage and uplift others in that process.  And, that, is a holy calling.  

I will miss my ENCOURAGER for so many selfish reasons. She understands, I am only human and she is now a saint, and of course looking down on me with even greater patience and tenderness.  When I find myself getting all pity-partied up, I try to step outside out of my own orbit, and close my eyes.  I can see her sitting with her baby girl, Elizabeth in her arms, her son, Mark at her knee, husband Tom, with his hand on her shoulder, and her mom, dad and beloved brothers rushing forward to greet her exclaiming, "She's here!"  It's hard to not just smile at that picture and take the gifts she so freely gave me and pay it forward.  


http://www.masfh.com/obituary/Roselyn-Mahoney/Galion-Ohio/179832