The memorial mass for Mom was exactly what I had wanted - it was a folk mass attended by dozens of Mom's neighbors and parishioners. A surprise appearance by a friend of Mom's who we had thought was going to be out of town made it even more special - Ginny was a co-member of the folk group Mom sang and played with back in the 70's. I almost burst into tears when I saw her walk into the back of the church (and it wasn't because she was also my dreaded algebra teacher back in high school, LOL!). Add to that the musician friends of my sister who also sang and played at the mass including an awesome version of "Ave Maria". The ladies of the church, organized by our neighbor, my Mom's best friend since we moved to Maryland in 1965, put on a wonderful sit down reception in the hall after the service. My sister Holly spoke a wonderful eulogy at the end of the Mass that encompassed Mom's love of music, family, and church, and my off-key singing to Eagles tunes at 4am (yes, she did, thanks Hol). LOL! My sister Barry had spoken an equally wonderful eulogy for Mom in front of family at the funeral Mass for Mom in Massachusetts the other day, and her theme of Mom's connection to our tightly knit Irish clan is what inspired Hol to focus on Mom's connection to the parish family in Maryland. My sister Sal mentioned at one point how sometimes that certain song has a certain spot when you KNOW the emotional wave will overcome you. You keep a stiff upper lip, you stare off in different directions, you think of baseball stats, anything to maintain composure, but there is no changing the fact that when the music reaches that spot, you become a baby and have to bawl. My problem similar to that is the personal touch of a hug - I love a hug, but in a situation like this, a hug is ok, but when you try to combine it with a platitude, it is too much. So I often make very brief connection with people - even saying goodbye today to my sisters, I wanted a big hug, but the moment I embraced them, I felt that tide rise and my voice break, and had to pull away. Too bad I cant do a video here - sister Sal glued a photo of Mom's face to an Irish doll I gave Mom several years ago. When the tummy is pressed, it sings "When Irish Irish Eyes Are Smiling". The doll has been a toy Mom has enjoyed in the past few months and I accepted it as a gift. With Mom's face (from the photo of she and I posted several spots below) on the fiddle playing red haired leprechaun, I shot the doll with the house in the background before I pulled away from our home of 44 years. If you are a facebooker, friend me and the video is posted there tonite - it is just a few seconds long as the "lepre-CON" (Mom's name is Constance, get it?) sings its one verse. Lepre-CON will ride with me for a few hundred thousand miles.
*sigh* and life goes on . . .
There's a tear in your eye, And I'm wondering why,
For it never should be there at all.
With such pow'r in your smile, Sure a stone you'd beguile,
So there's never a teardrop should fall.
When your sweet lilting laughter's Like some fairy song,
And your eyes twinkle bright as can be;
You should laugh all the while And all other times smile,
And now, smile a smile for me.
When Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, 'tis like the morn in Spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
When Irish hearts are happy,
All the world seems bright and gay.
And when Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, they steal your heart away.
For your smile is a part Of the love in your heart,
And it makes even sunshine more bright.
Like the linnet's sweet song, Crooning all the day long,
Comes your laughter and light.
For the springtime of life Is the sweetest of all
There is ne'er a real care or regret;
And while springtime is ours Throughout all of youth's hours,
Let us smile each chance we get.
