Eulogies

Michelle and I would like to thank the many people who attended Mom's funeral (the room was standing room only, which was a tribute to the many people that Mom touched) and the shivah last week. It was a beautiful service for a beautiful woman.

Mom deserved nothing less.

Michelle and I were asked by several people to post our eulogies online...


Michelle's Eulogy:

Baruch Hashem. Bless G-d.

Oh great spirit, saints and sages of all religions, holy Kriya lineage, please bless Sharon, my Mom, today.

Please fill her with love, peace and happiness. Please bring to her that which she needs. And that which she feels she needs. Surely, swiftly and most, most harmoniously. May her transition be a journey of ease. May she be blessed. May she be blessed. May she be triply blessed - As she has been a blessing to others.

Aum tat sa ohm.

My Mother is light and beauty. Of pure love, of pure heart, of pure spirit. I am the luckiest daughter. To be selfish, I would wish for more time with my Mother. But I know in my heart that she will always be with me, with all of us.

She touched all of you in a different way, but you all know her love, and for that, we are truly blessed.

I love you, Mommy. Be at peace.


Corey's Eulogy:

"One sees clearly only with the heart, the essential is invisible to the eyes." That quote, from the Little Prince, in many ways encapsulates how Mom lived her life -- with her heart. She didn’t see race or religion or national origin. She didn’t care about gender or sexual orientation or social status. Mom cared about people. All people.

And when Mom was with people, she had a way of making everyone feel special. She accepted people for how they were, and saw the potential for who they could be --- usually before they could see it in themselves. Mom just had a natural ease around people and she intuitively knew what they needed. Our former neighbor John told me a story that, shortly after Mom moved to her apartment on Lake Shore Drive, he went for a visit. Though he didn’t say anything, Mom could tell that he was just a bit uncomfortable. Mom said, “I know what you need” and excused herself to the other room, only to return in a robe, thereby putting John at ease. Mom wasn’t about appearances.

Her grace was effortless because it was innate. Mom used to tell Michelle and me that, “no act of kindness is ever wasted.” It’s a beautiful sentiment, and it’s one that Mom lived everyday. Michelle and Mom used to buy make-up together and one day they heard that the girl that used to help them was in the hospital. She asked if the girl had any family with her and when she was told no, she took Michelle to the hospital because she didn’t want the girl to be alone. As it turned out the girls her mother was there and she asked Mom why she had come. Because, my Mom explained, as a mother, I’d want somebody to do the same for my child. As fate would have it, the girl – Betsy – and her Mom – Mary – would later become Mom’s neighbors and friends. Mom gave without thinking because it was the right thing to do. And she didn’t know how to be any other way.

I received so many wonderful gifts from my Mom – my love of reading (the Little Prince was one of our favorite books), my love of whimsy, and my sense of humor (sorry Dad). I remember one time, when I was just a young boy and we were still living in Florida; my tooth fell out but I didn’t tell anyone. I placed it under my pillow and was extremely disappointed that the tooth fairy hadn’t arrived. I told my Mom the next morning and, without a moment’s hesitation she reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper. I was told that it was a note from the Tooth Fairy that read the following “Dear Mrs. Novick, I had some difficulty getting into Corey’s room last night. Please give him the enclosed dollar bill. Signed – The Tooth Fairy.”

Mom loved to travel and she took Michelle and me on trips across the globe. One of my favorite memories from our travels was from a trip to New York. We had taken some breadsticks with us so we could have a snack as we walked around the city. Michele was surprised to see Mom eating the breadsticks shortly after we started walking.

“Mom” she exclaimed, “are you eating your breadsticks already?”

“No” Mom replied. “I’m eating yours.”

Michelle and I were so lucky to have our Mom for a Mother. She showed us how to deal with adversity. Mom had many ailments in her life and when she was a teenager she had cancer of the thyroid and the parathyroid. When she worried that an operation would leave a scar, my Bubby told her that she had to be strong and Mom never complained after that. And later when Mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, she again refused to complain. Instead she said Baruch hashem. Bless G-d. She was more than a Mother; she was also a role model.

But perhaps most of all, Mom was our friend. Mom would always be there to listen and to laugh, to give advice without judgment and to encourage us. She would support us in whatever we attempted and we knew that regardless of the outcome, Mom would be proud of us just for trying.

Michelle and I were Mom’s pride and joy, but by no means were we her only children. She became a second mother to many of our friends. Often times they’d call Mom or want to spend time with her even when we weren’t around because they loved her too. When Michelle’s best friend Ting gave birth to her daughter Zoe, Mom was in the delivery room. Zoe called Mom “Shanti” which means peace in Sanskrit. And when Michelle was named Zoe’s godmother, Mom became Zoe’s fairy Godmother. And Mom loved her very much.

When she was working at Arrington travel, Mom’s co-workers made a plaque for her that said “Mother Novick” because our Mom was always the person that people could turn to when they needed a sympathetic ear. Or a shoulder to cry on. Or just a hug.

Our Mom was a mother to so many people and her friends were like an extended family. As everybody knows, families spend holidays together and Mom would use such occasions to open her house to her friends, some of whom had no other place to go. And if they had friends, well, they’d be welcome too. And invariably, they too would fall under Mom’s spell of warmth, and compassion, and grace.

When Mom realized that she had taken a turn for the worse, she didn’t worry about her own condition. Instead, she asked my friends to take care of her boy. That was Mom, selfless to the end.

When Mom was hospitalized it became stunningly clear that Mom had touched so many, so deeply. The visitors -- Mom’s extended family -- poured in from everywhere: Nevada, Wisconsin, Florida, Arizona, Ohio, Taipei and London. It became hard to keep track of everyone, as Mom’s visitors overflowed from her room and soon took over an entire waiting area as well.

One of the things that really struck me was that Mom’s visitors came from every walk of life. I was particularly moved when one of the doormen from Mom’s building came by to see her. He had changed into his street clothes and sat by Mom’s bedside. He held her hand. And she held his. And he kissed her hand. And Mom kissed his back. A waitress from the restaurant in Mom’s building came to visit on her off day and cried at Mom’s bedside. Mom’s impact on people was very deep and everlasting.

I was always close with my Mom, but when she got diagnosed with cancer, we became that much closer. We worked together on a blog called the chemo chronicle. And when I was a bit late in putting up a posting, she’s ask if I’d written her blog yet. Although I didn’t even realize it at the time, even as we were posting details of her battle with cancer, she was still mothering me, helping to re-ignite my love of writing, which had been dormant for so long. Even in her time of sickness Mom was still trying to help me and to guide me.

Though the past 14 months were incredibly difficult, they were in many ways the best time of my life because I was able to spend so much time with Mom – going to chemo and doctors appointments, working on the blog, having dinner, running errands. It wasn’t so much what we were doing, it was that we were doing it together. It was such a blessing to be with Mom and to be able to give back to her because she’d given so much to so many. And she was always thankful. And gracious. Because that’s the only way she knew how to be.

Mom died peacefully while Michelle and I were holding her in our arms. At the time of her passing, it seemed like the world was coming to an end. And at that time I wish it had. But we’ve received so much support from those who loved Mom and from those who love us – from Mom’s family, biological and extended alike -- I know that, although we're going to miss Mom dearly, we're eventually going to be ok.

There’s another passage from The Little Prince that I can almost hear Mom speaking to us now. It reads, "People have stars, but they aren't the same. For travelers, the stars are guides. For other people, they're nothing but tiny lights. And for still others, for scholars, they're problems. For my businessman, they were gold. But all those stars are silent stars. You, though, you'll have stars like nobody else.”

“When you look up at the sky at night, since I'll be living on one of them, since I'll be laughing on one of them, for you, it'll be as if all the stars are laughing. You'll have stars that can laugh!"

And she laughed.

“And when you're consoled (everyone is eventually consoled), you'll be glad you've known me. You'll always be my friend. You'll feel like laughing with me. And you'll open your windows sometimes just for the fun of it... And your friends will be amazed to see you laughing while you're looking up at the sky. Then you'll tell them, 'Yes, it's the stars. They always make me laugh!"

Though Mom’s body is no longer with us, we can take comfort in knowing that Mom will remain forever in our hearts. We are all better people for having known her, for having been touched by her, for loving her and for being loved by her. And when time goes by and you find yourself thinking about Mom, just remember to look up at the stars in the sky.

And laugh with her.

I love you Mommy.