Todd's Funeral Talk

For any of you who were unable to attend Mom's funeral, I've posted the talk I gave below.  As I re-read my talk before posting, I am once again reminded of just how much I love her.  She's one of the great ones, and I cannot wait to see her again.  I love you mom!
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Over the past 3 days, I have spent much time thinking about how I might share my feelings about my mother—how I might communicate just how special she was.  And as the memories come rushing back, I have pretty much resigned myself to the fact that it is impossible to do so.  56 years of near perfection cannot be expressed in such a short amount of time.  It is my prayer, however, that I might do so, even in small part­—that we may celebrate the life of one of the great ones, and leave here today with a resolve to be a little better.

In the New Testament, we learn from the Savior the two great commandments: love God and love your neighbor.  I know of no other person, who did this better than my mom.

For as long as I can remember, I have known that my mother loved me.  It was never a question.  As a child, my mom and I had a very specific nightly routine.  In those days, Tyler and I shared a bunk bed, with me on the top.  Every night, mom would climb up onto the top bunk, scratch my back for a few minutes, and then hold my hand with our fingers interlocked until I fell asleep.  As I got older, the ways in which I saw her love for me continued to grow.  Whether it was an “I love you” written on the napkin in my lunch or bringing homework to school that I had forgotten, the list is seemingly never-ending.  In fact, even after I had gone off for college, my mom, without fail, would send me a Valentine’s Day present each year, along with a card, telling me how important I was to her.  I cannot express how much that meant to me, knowing that no matter what happened, I had a mother at home who loved me unconditionally. 

My mom’s love for her children is so great that she once insisted to Tyler and I, that none of her children had ever gone though an awkward phase.  As those of you who saw the slideshow of photos before the service can attest, that is clearly not the case.  As such, there are only two possible explanations for her insistence: either she successfully suppressed all memory of Brandon ever having a flat top, or, more likely, she loved her kids so much that she only saw the best in each one of us.

This love was not limited to her family.  As astonishing as this large crowd is, I have to say, I am not surprised.  I’m sure there are over a dozen people in this room who consider her their best friend. Just yesterday, we received a Facebook message from a girl who was our neighbor back when we lived in Libertyville the first time.  In her note, she told about how when she very young, about 4 years old, she can still remember going over to our house and playing with my mom.  In fact, this little girl loved my mom so much that she named her teddy bear, which she still has to this day, Sherrie.   Everyone loved my mom because she loved them.  One of the most amazing things about my mom is that I have literally never heard one person utter a negative word about my mother and I don’t think that that’s coincidence.  She was simply that great.

Because of this love, even her blunders were the cutest, funniest things of you’ve ever seen.

Once, late at night, my mom could not find the cordless home phone.  After looking for a few minutes, she decided to use her cell phone to call the home phone, so it would ring and she could find it.  So she dialed and as she waited she began talking to the rest of us.  A few seconds later, the phone started to ring, and without missing a beat, mom turned to us and said, “WHO is calling us so late?!?!”.  Holding back the laughter, we replied, “umm….you are, mom!”. 

Now, if any normal person were to do these things, people would probably start to distance themselves from that person.  But, that was the charm of my mother.  Somehow, finding out that she had knocked over another mailbox or driven away with a gas pump attached to her suburban just made you love her a little more.  That’s the magic of Sherrie.

I’d like to share with you a special experience that I had some 7 years ago. Shortly after turning 19, I had the opportunity to serve a two-year mission for my church in India.  As you would probably expect, going from Libertyville to India was quite the shock.  Those first few weeks were rough.  India was more hot and humid than even my wildest imaginations, the food didn’t sit well with my stomach, and I struggled to communicate in even the most basic way with those around me.  These struggles seemed to culminate one especially hot afternoon.  After walking around in a maze like neighborhood, my companion and I realized that we had no idea where we were.  In this particular city there was a large river that ran through it.  I thought that if we could just see where we were along that river, we’d be able to figure out where we were.  At the end of the street we were on there was a small grassy patch and then a wall.  I decided that I was going to climb on the wall to get a view of the river.   As I crossed the grassy patch, I immediately sank in up to my knees, in what quickly became clear to me wasn’t grass, but was sewage.

All my frustrations with my situation seemed to boil over at that moment, and to top it off, my companion was in stitches laughing at me.  I was livid.  I wanted to quit and go home.  But just as I was ready to melt down, I heard a voice—not a voice in my head, to me it was a real audible voice.  It was the voice of my mom, and she was saying the words of a scripture from the Book of Mormon, Alma 26:27.  It reads, “Now when our hearts were depressed, and we were about to turn back, behold, the Lord comforted us, and said: Go amongst they brethren, the Lamanites, and bear with patience thine afflictions, and I will give unto you success.”  Instantly, I felt the frustration leave my body.  It was all I needed to hear.  From there, I decided to clean myself off and get back doing the work that I committed to do.  That experience changed my life, and as a result, turned my mission into something that I enjoyed thoroughly and will cherish for the rest of my life.

I learned two things from that experience: (1) Never assume that ANYTHING is India is grass; and (2) that I had a mother 10,000 miles away, who spent every night on her knees, begging her Heavenly Father to protect her son.  I know that it was because of her love and her prayers that I heard her voice, and that experience forever burned in my heart the love that my mother has for me.

A few weeks ago, I was going through my phone and deleting old files.  As I went through old text messages, I came across the last text message that I ever received from my mom.  It was just a single word: yeehaw (with a bunch of exclamation points).  Now, I have absolutely no clue what the context of her message is.  For all I know she just felt like texting me yeehaw one day.  To me, that sums up my mom so perfectly.  She was so enthusiastic and positive that I can just picture her shouting “yeehaw!” for no reason at all, other than to show that life was good.

As life without mom comes in to picture, I am reminded of just how good she was, and how good life was if you had the privilege of knowing her.  And as sad as it is to see mom go, I am comforted that through God’s plan and through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we can be with our families forever.  Nothing brings more peace to my soul. 

Mom, I miss you! I love you! Yeehaw!