Talk from Mom's service

Below is my talk from Mom's funeral service last week.  Dad asked that we each post what we had written down here on the blog.  Thanks again to all of you for your love and support!

Best,

Brandon

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So where do I start?   What is left to say about such a great woman?  Sure I am biased, but no matter the words I choose, they just don’t seem to do her life justice.  I have even tried singing them, but that definitely didn’t help…in fact, it may be the only thing I could do to clear out this room all at once.

Thank you for being here.  It was wonderful seeing so many old friends this morning.  Some of you I haven’t seen since I had a surfer mullet and said things “rad” and “gnarly.”  Looking out at the audience today, I am overwhelmed.  It means so much to us that you are here – many of you have traveled from far away to be here with us.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.  My mother taught us that so much of our happiness here on this earth is derived from the types of relationships we build with family and friends through service and love.  Each of you is evidence of that principle in her life and testament to her goodness. 

I am honored to be here to share some stories about sweet Sherrie Lynn Labrum – wife, mother, grandmother, sister, friend, cheerleader, motivational speaker, hype man, exemplar…and on and on on.   She is our Mama, our Nana, Sher…or Adams, her maiden name, as she was affectionately called by my Dad.  I am Brandon, Sherrie’s oldest child (but not that old, despite what my sibilings have suggested) or Bubba as she called me for as long as I can remember. 

I stand up hear with this strange mix of sadness and peace.  I want to sob – to cry – to cry out - to show you how much I loved her, but I can’t because I have much to say.  Not everything I COULD share, because you know that would take seemingly forever and we ALL must go on living.  Whoever said that dying was hard on the living is right. 

As you can imagine, I have spent a lot of time pondering my mother’s life over the last eight months, and even more so over the last few days.   Perhaps many of you that knew her well have done the same.   After a lot of pondering, I have decided she was pretty much perfect.  No doubt her life ranks up there with some of the great ones.  In our minds, Mother Theresa, Mahatma Gahndi, and Martin Luther King Jr, ain’t got nothin’ her…BUT, I did – not air her dirty laundry (of which her kids produced a lot)– come up with a couple of things she may have to do some explaining for. 

First, she was a terrible driver.  No really, not good.  In fact, there are probably – no exaggeration – at least a dozen people in this room that have been tapped, sideswiped, or fender-bendered by my mom.  I know for a fact that there are at least three of you that were backed into in our own driveway…usually 15 seconds after she said good bye and watched you get into your car…that was parked directly behind her. 

So, if you walk away with nothing else after this service, rest assured that the roads (or at least our driveway) are just a little bit safer.   That said, I should probably remind you that she did have five children that inherited, at least in part, her approach to operating motor vehicles. 

I also heard my mom curse.  It was just once and it was muffled and under her breath, but it did happen. She would probably still deny it today (and may be right).  But I’m pretty sure I heard it.  I don’t remember exactly what it was for, but the smart money would tell it you it was probably something Todd did. 

So that’s it.  A spotty driving record and one swear word.  Not a bad track record over 56 years. 

It’s that life that we are here to cherish.  To honor.  To celebrate.  I wish so badly that it were under different circumstances.  A birthday perhaps.  An anniversary.  Even a roast.  Anything but this.  In preparing my words for today, I typed what are undoubtedly the most difficult words I’ve have ever had to type…Sherrie Labrum Eulogy.  It all seems so surreal.  I would love for her to physically be here today to hear us share all of the good memories and experiences we’ve had with her over the years, although my mom would not relished so much the attention.  I’m not sure she would have been able to sit through more than about five minutes – she never felt comfortable when people were making a “fuss” over her.  She wouldn’t have liked it, but she deserves it…every bit. 

In these situations you are asked to tell a group about the person of honor.  Please allow me some latitude because I will inevitably tell you stories that involve us, me and my siblings.  This isn’t about me or them– it is about some of our many experiences with an amazing woman -- so I hope you understand this is about all of us.

SAVING LIVES

Let me say simply that my mother is a lifesaver in every sense of the word.  I obviously didn’t know her as a child, but I imagine this has always been the case.  Everything my grandmother told me corroborates my assumption.  She saved my life, as I know she did my sibling’s, on more than one occasion.  In fact, I believe she lived for it.  The first time that I can remember this happening was in the second grade when she let me grow mold in our refrigerator on eight different kinds of cheese for the science fair.  I remember really really wanting to win and being convinced that my “mold on cheese” experiment was a sure bet.  Apparently, I wasn’t the brightest bulb in the lamp.  I’m not sure what I was setting out to prove, other than confirmatory evidence that mold DOES in fact grow on cheese.   Not much of a breakthrough, I must admit, even in 1985, but I did make it to the state science fair.  And I remember thinking it was all because of her. Life saved.  And it didn’t stop there.  There are more examples than I an count, but suffice it to say, she did talk me out of shaving my jersey number into the back of my head on more than one occasion.  Life saved. 

More importantly, she saved our lives by teaching us that being kind was a must-have, not a nice to have.  She taught us that being “cool” isn’t all its cracked up to be and that it was ok and expected to stand up for what we believed in.  She showed us that a life of service, is a life of happiness.  She taught her boys to be good men and to respect women (even our sister).  The list could go on and on, but it has struck me over the years that most of these things weren’t things that she said to us, but rather showed us.  She lived her principles, which may ultimately be the lynchpin between shaping a life and saving a life. 

As a quick aside, before she started saving our lives, she began with my Dad.  My Dad admits it – he always said that any good thing he has accomplished is because of her (by the way, he didn’t need to tell us that, we already knew).  I’m not sure where he was headed before he met her, but from the college pictures I’ve seen, it wasn’t anywhere pretty.  There is a picture of him in a beige leisure suit and purple clogs that readily comes to mind that could have made John Travolta jealous.  Either way, Mom has proven to be up for the challenge. 

EFFORTLESS GENUITY

My wife Wendy and I have been blessed with two children.  Our first, Caroline, has been an angel from heaven.  Perfect from Day 1.  Good natured, well mannered, inquisitive, tender…all the good things you hope for in a little girl.  Our second, named Gray, is…well…to put it mildly…an ANIMAL.  Most days we think he needs to be raised in the woods by wolves.  Wendy and I, in the process of raising him, have gained deeper appreciation for my sweet mom.  She, like us, was blessed with a princess…but paid her dues with not one, but FOUR animals.  When I was a senior in high school my Mom mentioned to me that we were going through almost 8 gallons of milk, 6 loaves of bread, and 5 boxes of cereal, and 4 pounds of deli meat each WEEK.  There were countless trips to the emergency room, dozens of broken spindles on the banister, broken windows, broken glasses, broken bones, and at least on head through dry wall (ask Tyler and Todd about that one – not a happy day in the Labrum household).   

To this day, I have no idea how she did it.  You many not be able to tell from how we turned out, but she really did it well.  With my mom, it all seemed so effortless.  As an adult I have stood in awe of the way she seemed to elegantly move through live.  Sure, she lost her keys or her wallet a few dozen times, but most of the time life just seemed to suit her.  I feel like I am usually grinding my way through life – one foot in front of the other, each step requiring just a bit more exertion than the last.  Not her.  I have often wondered why, and I have come to the conclusion that its because she lived as she is.  She isn’t trying to be kind.  She is kind.  She isn’t trying to be non-judgmental and love unconditionally.  She really isn’t judgmental and does, in fact, love her friends and family as she said she did.  She is genuinely good, and as a result, her efforts to be good seemed pretty natural.  I am so grateful to have had the privilege of witnessing that for 34 years.

FUN

As I describe my mother, I worry that some you that didn’t know her as well might think I describing some type of Polyanna and apple-pie kind of perfection.  While she did like apple pie and the movie Polyanna, that was not my mother.  She was happy, but not naïve.  Full of joy, but keenly aware of the needs of those around her.  She didn’t operate at a superficial level, she dug into life – into the trenches, where the real fun, the real meaningful joy, the real emotion resides.  And the woman loved to have fun.  She used to take us to toilet paper our friends houses in the middle of the night…also to go back and clean it up the next morning. 

Some of my first memories of my Mom are dancing with her in our kitchen to “Let’s Hear It For the Boy.”  That was our jam.  Gotta love the 80’s – I’m just thankful it wasn’t something really cheesy, like Olivia Newton John or something.  Mom loved to dance.  In the kitchen.  In the car.  With the kids.  With my dad.  With her dad. 

In fact, she loved to dance so much that she decided to chaperone the senior prom on year.  The only challenge was that no one told me.  Or so I thought.  After taking the obligatory prom pictures at our house, I made my way out the front door with my friends and my date to what I thought was an unbelievably cool white stretch limo.  Yikes.  On my way out, Mom said as she normally did, “I love you.  Remember who you are” and then, “we’ll see you over at the dance.”  I, of course, thought she was joking, and said something to the effect of, “yeah, right.  See you later” and off we went.  A few hours later at the dance, I made my way out of the sea of people dancing near the DJ to go get a drink of water.  As I get to the outside edge of the gym floor (just outside the perimeter of the real serious dancing), I hear.  “Hi, Brandon!”  I looked up in horror recognizing my mom’s voice.  And there they were.  My parents…at my senior prom…and they WERE DANCING.   I couldn’t believe it.  I scrambled to check that I was in fact wearing a shirt and instantly replayed the previous two hours to make sure I hadn’t done something completely stupid.  Though, I was stunned in the moment, I have look back on that moment now with some fondness.  At the end of the day, here were two people that loved their kids.  And loved each other.  And we’re fun enough to dance together…and not look half bad doing it. 

LOVE UNCONDITIONAL

I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen my mother upset.  Literally.  That’s not an exaggeration.  As you might have guessed. none of the times she was upset had anything to do with me.  It was invariably one of my siblings doing the dumb things.  I was an angel.   I promise.  

Mom was slow to anger, but not a pushover.  She demanded respect because of the example she set.  She didn’t need to scream and yell…even when Todd dumped a four gallon jug of sunny delight on the new carpet or her oldest son forgot to the turn the water off when filling the pool…just before leaving for a 10 day vacation.  Oops.  (I think that one still may be a bit raw for Dad).  There was nothing worse than mom being disappointed in you.  Growing up, it was the worst D-word in the book.    

During one vacation to Utah, my Dad was frustrated about something (probably us) and got a bit snippy with my Mom.  After some brief words, he walked away in a bit of a huff.  I was old enough to understand what was happening and I said something to the effect of, “Mom, aren’t you going to say something to him.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  He shouldn’t get mad at you like that.”  She calmly replied, “Son, I love your Father and he’ll come back.  I don’t need to yell back.  Just watch.”  Sure enough, a few minutes later he returned.  I remember he said I’m sorry and I love you and kissed her on the cheek.  She said, “I love you too” and moved on. No bitterness.  She forgave him…immediately.  No guile.  No grudge.  No guilt trip at a later day.  It was amazing…not to mention that I learned at that moment, who really wore the pants in their relationship.  

WHY HER?

Allow me to say a quick word about our journey over the last eight months.  As you can imagine, they have been exceedingly challenging for our mom our family.  They have taken us to the edge of our physical, spiritual, and emotional understanding.  I know that she is in a better place- free from earthly care and free from pain.  I also believe she misses us as much as we miss her, and as a result, will find a way to be near us.  To lift us up.  To help turn our frowns upside down and lift up our heads when they hang.  I also know that one day “the soul shall be restored to the body, and the body to the soul; yea, and every limb and joint shall be restored to its body; yea, even a hair of the head shall not be lost; but all things shall be restored to their proper and perfect frame.”  I look forward to that day. 

Some of you many be wondering, as we have at various points along our journey, how could this happen?  Why our mom?  Which begs a broader question about why bad things can happen to good people?  I am not going to profess to have all or any of the answers, but I would be remiss if didn’t share some of my feelings given what’s transpired.

Shortly after my mom’s accident, I heard a song called Head or Your Heart that really struck me.  There is verse in the song that goes: 

Choose one, your head or your heart,

We could not of known it'd go this far.

Choose one, it's the hardest part.

Losing one becomes the very start.

For the last eight months, as my mom literally fought for her life – and she fought so hard - we fought to come to grips with what had happened and reconcile it in our own lives.  In may ways and on a continual basis, we had to make a choice between out head and our heart.  Our heads told us that this wasn’t fair and to be angry and depressed.  Our hearts reminded us of what we had be taught – from our mother and through our faith.  This was part of a plan.  There were new lessons to be learned.  Choosing our hearts meant choosing to trust that we have a loving Heavenly Father that wasn’t going to forsake us if we turned to him, that from time to time he would provide answers to prayers (often through many of you).  Choosing our hearts meant finding comfort in our opportunity to be together as a family again once this mortal life is done.  We didn’t know it would go this far, but if you would have told us that we could have all these years with such an amazing and eternity.  Even though it would have been cut short, we would have taken it. 

A close family friend, Rodney Dial, who recently lost his own father sent me a note he had received from my mom shortly after his passing.  To me, it is as close as are going to get today to the words she might have shared had she been standing here in my place.  I want to share a piece of it with you.

I was disbelieving, as I know you were, to hear of your Dad's accident and passing.  How could this happen to such a vital, "living life to the fullest", kind man?  I haven't figured out the answer to that question, but I do know that he is not gone, but that his goodness and kindness are being shared in a different place.  Where Rod Dial is now, he is still living life to the fullest because that is the kind of man he is.  While I didn't know him as long as many, I had such a respect for him and the way he was raising his family.  That is his wonderful legacy....You!  Along with your brothers and sisters, Rod's spirit will live on through your many valiant works in this life.  He was a caring person and totally without guile.  I know very few people like that.  These attributes will be reflected in his family.  Luckily, he never wasted any time in teaching you while you were young!

Losing my mother is the start of a new journey, that I believe ultimately leads right back to her.    Her legacy will continue through all of us here today.  My job, our job, is to try to live our lives as she did.  Without regret.  Without guile.  With unconditional love.  In my mother’s eyes, there were no clicks or clubs, no exclusivity, no haves and have-nots.  There were people.  May we strive to see our worlds the same way.  May we smile more and love more deeply is my prayer.

Mom, I love you.  I will miss you.  But I will see you again.