My Eulogy for Her Memorial Service ~ Saturday December 5th, 2015
How do you sum up a life? How do you portray a person in a few words? Especially someone so vibrant, so active, so dynamic as my Mum? The lasting effect she had on me, and on many people, has gone much further than can be captured in words. However, though this seems far from adequate, I'm going to speak about my Mum now, and tell you a little of her story, to try to give you a glimpse of the person she was.
My Mum, Pat, was born on the 26th April, 1934, to Bill and Elsie Russell in Cheam, Surrey, England. The eldest of 3 children, Pat had a younger brother John, who sadly passed away several years ago, and a younger sister, Pamela (my Auntie Pam), who is here with us, today... All 3 siblings were very close friends and their strong love for each other has been an inspiration to me, in my life, even though I don't have siblings. I have learned from them about the bonds of unconditional love.
Pat was a child during the 2nd World War, and, she often told me stories of her school days, the air raids, the bomb-shelters they had, in their house and in their back yard - and all the hardships of war that she and her family had to go through, enduring overhead bombings, evacuation, severe rationing, and having her Dad away from home for 6 years, as a soldier fighting overseas. These stories of her childhood are enough to fill a book. (Which I might just do one day!)
One common theme, however, despite the horrors of war, was the love and laughter in her family, especially with her Mum and Dad, Elsie and Bill, and her brother John and her sister, Pam. She often told me how much her Mum and Dad loved to dance and sing, how they would suddenly break out into dance or song, and swoop you up in it - and how they were always laughing, or finding the funny side to life's little disasters. She gave me a picture of her childhood as a very happy one.
Consequently, my Mum was a very cheerful soul, with a very sunny nature. She often proudly told me how her nickname at school was “Smiler”! She had beautiful white teeth too – quite unusual, supposedly for a Brit, with little to no dental care. But it was true, and she kept all of her own teeth, right until the end.
My Mum was also a multi talented, creative and passionate person. I feel absolutely sure that if she had had the opportunities that I had, when she was a little girl, she would have become a piano player, or a singer, or a dancer, or a musician or artist of some sort. One thing I do know – she had a lovely voice, and would sing much of time, just going around the house – humming or singing out loud, in a beautiful, cheerful way. When I was little, she would sing to me often, and she taught me many many songs – old British folk songs, and old standards from the Jazz era – 1920s, 30s and 40s. She had no training, of course, but the style of her voice was similar to that of Doris Day, and I especially think of her when I hear the song “Que Sera Sera”.
She was also talented at painting, drawing, sewing, knitting, cooking and gardening.
One regret that I know my Mum had, was turning down the chance, at age 11, for a better education. She passed her “11 Plus” exams with flying colours, making her eligible to go to “Grammar school” (where she would have been encouraged to take O Level exams and go on to college). She told me that her Mum even promised to somehow provide her with the expensive uniform, and equipment required for Grammar school. But, age 11 was so young to make this big decision. So Pat, at age 11, felt she would rather not put her Mum through this expense and rise above her peers, but stick with her friends and go to the local Secondary Modern school down the road. And so, like most students from Secondary Modern Schools in 1945, she left school at the age of 14 with no qualifications.
She told me that she then had 3 career choices: – Factory worker, Shop worker or Secretary. She chose secretary. So, at 14, she went out to work, on her bicycle, cycling 15 miles each way, into London, to her job as “Office Junior” in a law firm. She also went to typing school and studied Pittman's Shorthand and typing skills. Her early secretarial jobs helped her to provide for her family, and would lead her, eventually, into jobs and arenas that elevated her and enabled her the chance to seek out her own education, later on, through evening classes.
In 1952, at age 18, she met my Dad, Richard, at Decca Radar, a company that made the glass for light-houses. He was working on the factory side, with electric circuits, and they met in their breaks, behind the bike sheds! After 3 years of being pursued by Richard, she married him at the age of 21, in 1955. It would have been their 60th wedding anniversary in May this year, just after my Dad passed away. Theirs was a stormy relationship, and yet without doubt, a very close one. They were each other's best friends until the end.
The highlight of Pat's career, was during the 1960s, when she worked for 10 years with British Airways. Or, what was actually known then as “British European Airways” in those days (BEA). You'll have seen the display here, of some of the highlights of her time with BEA on the tables around this room. She rose up from secretary, to office manager, to personnel officer (what we call “human resources manager” nowadays). And then she branched out into a new role, as an “air hostess” (what we call “flight attendant” nowadays) on British Airways helicopters. For this, she wore a beautiful navy blue uniform, complete with navy blue hat, and white gloves. She also became the British Airways “pin-up girl” for the BEA magazine.
Through this role, she met many famous people, because in those days, celebrities would privately hire these15 seater helicopters, for their private flights. And my Mum was the flight attendant on these flights. Pam and Dave have already talked about her meeting Frank Sinatra. She also met the Shah of Persia, Tommy Steele and many others.
Another highlight was when she met The Beatles.
It was in 1969, and The Beatles were making the movie of The Hard Days' Night album. And they were filming at Gatwick Airport, at the British Airways helicopter hanger, right outside my Mum's office. During the filming, there was a lot police presence and screaming fans who were being kept back behind chain-link fences. My Mum said it was very inconvenient for getting to and from work, and she couldn't understand what all this fuss was about – these were just a bunch of kids playing that punky rock music. And then, on one of the days, during filming, they came into her office because they needed to use a telephone. (This was before the days of cell phones of course!) My Mum vividly recalls how they came in, and one of them spoke to her, and said “Give us a line, love!” Which she dutifully did. And then she recalls that while they were making their phone calls, they all four sat on chairs with their feet up on her desk! And she was quite put out! She also remembers that they were eating hot dogs and dropping crumbs and ketchup all over her lovely office carpet.
Knowing that they were famous, however, she did get their autographs. She got all 4 autographs on a pound note, and all 4 autographs on one of their Hard Days' Night album. Did she keep these autographs? No. She didn't get them for herself – she got them for a friend. Another regret she's had in life, is never tracking down this friend and seeing those autographs ever again.
But anyway. Pat's career with British Airways was going along nicely, until 1971, when she started to not feel very well, and started putting on weight, mysteriously. At first, she tried to lose this weight, by doubling her gymnastics routine. But, after finding that the gymnastics wasn't helping her to lose weight, and that she was really not feeling well at all, she went to the doctor, who decided to give her a pregnancy test. She thought he was crazy - “Nooo, I can't be expecting!” she said. But, when he told her the news that she was indeed having a baby, she was so shocked, that he immediately offered her a cigarette to calm her down! And apparently, they both sat in the doctors office, smoking away! (What can I say? It was 1971!)
And so, in September 1971, I was born, and my Mum left her job with British Airways and stayed home with me, during my early years. When I was 5, she went back to work, but took a job as a school secretary, in a local elementary school, so that she could have school hours, and school vacations off, to be with me.
She was much loved at this elementary school. Because it was a small school, she took on 3 different roles all at once: – As well as the school secretary, she was also the school nurse AND the science lab technician. Some of my friends from that school still remember her, looking after them when they were sick, and remember her setting up the school candy shop, and organizing many activities and events. If you look, on one of the tables here, you'll see her “good-bye card” which she was given when she left this job (when I was a teenager). It has some lovely things written on it about her qualities and how much she was going to be missed.
Needless to say, a description of Pat's life has to include some of my life, because our lives were so intertwined. She became so involved with me, and all my activities, my piano lessons, flute lessons, orchestras, choirs, bands, swimming lessons, Brownies, school projects, etc. Being an only child, of course, I was never lacking for attention, from my parents. But, more than that, my Mum and I were really more like sisters, than mother-daughter, or more like best friends. She always treated me as an adult. She respected me, admired me, trusted me and confided in me, and even came to me for advice, on everything from what to wear, to how to handle a relationship crisis. And I, in turn, respected her, admired her, trusted her, and confided in her. There was almost nothing – almost nothing – that I didn't tell my Mum about, from crushes and boyfriends, to my deepest, darkest fears and worries. For most of my life, she was my rock, my angel, who I looked up to and aspired to be like, and loved more than I have ever loved any other being on earth. One of my biggest fears in life was losing her. I'm thankful that I never had to lose her at a young age. I'm thankful that she lived until a good age.
One of the hardest decisions of my life, of course, was having to leave her, and my Dad, my family and my country, to move over to the USA, to be with the other love of my life – Dave. But my Mum, bless her soul, was very gracious about me doing so. She was devastated of course, to lose me to the other side of the world. BUT, she really loved Dave, and understood that this was, indeed, the man for me. And above all, she wanted me to be happy. Her love for me was so strong, she let me go. And, for that, I have never really forgiven myself.
But, my consolations are that, despite the distance, we made it work. We emailed each other, every day, we spoke on the phone every week, and we visited at least twice a year. I'm very thankful that Dave always believed very strongly in family, and he always encouraged me to go over to England, as much as possible to visit, and to have my Mum and Dad visit us, as much as possible. So, despite the distance, we remained very close, and in fact shared hundreds of emails over the years – full of our thoughts, feelings and details about our lives - enough to fill two books! (Which I may write one day!)
I'm also very thankful that she had many years with her grandchildren, Tristan and Sophie, who she loved very much. She was there, with me and Dave, for both of their births, and was a wonderful helper and comforter. When the children were younger, and before Alzheimer's disabled her mind, she played with them, told them made-up stories, entered their fantasy worlds, flew kites with them, ran around with them, and even jumped on the trampoline with them! She had boundless energy to share with them, and they loved her dearly for it.
It is also my great joy that my Mum got to know my life here in America, my friends here and my family here – especially my in-laws, Ruth Ann and John, and their extended family. And she got to know many of you, my good friends here in Riverside and beyond.
The hardest thing about the distance was having to say “good-bye” so many times, at the airport. I always had this fatalistic notion that each good-bye might be the last. The night before my Mum collapsed, two months ago, with her acute stroke, I had a dream. (Not a day-dream – an actual dream). I've had these kinds of dreams before. It was only a month after I'd brought her over here, to live with us – but - I dreamed that I was taking her back to O'Hare airport so she could fly back home to England. When we got there, to my surprise, my Dad was there to meet her, and to take her through airport security to the departure lounge. I remember seeing him come forward and take her hand-luggage from me (which I'd been carrying). Then, with his other hand, he took her hand and led her through the gate to security...
I was speechless and didn't say anything out loud, but I remember thinking, "Oh my gosh, WAIT - she'll fall, she'll get lost, she won't cope... he doesn't realize..." (Because you see, she had already started to lose her balance by then, and had become really confused, much more so than she was before my Dad died). But then I looked again and saw that Mum was suddenly walking upright, happily, smiling, laughing and capable. I felt a sense of relief. I knew she was going to be all right. She was reunited with Dad again. She was happy and whole again. I watched, incredulously, and waved (as I have done many many times) - as the two of them walked together, through security, beyond the check-point, to the departure lounge.
Where they both went, I don't know, but I'd like to think it was to a place with a beautiful garden, where they can both sit and enjoy a glass of wine, in the sunshine and feel uplifted by by the beauty of nature.
Their ashes will be joined together in January – both of their bodies will be returned to the soil, where they will give nourishment and energy to the grass and flowers that will keep on going in the cycle of life.
And in the same way, our memories of Pat, of my Mum, will give energy to her spirit, which will live on and will remain with us today, and always.
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