From my remembrance of Mom, given at Christ Episcopal Church, September 1, 2010.
Thank you all for coming today. My mom would be very happy to see you. Actually, let me revise that…my mom is very happy to see you all. Because she is with us, here, in Christ Church, indeed.
She is also with her mother Emma and father, Fred Neale. Her sister Betty Jo. Her first Jack Russell, Reggie. And all of her wonderful cousins and relatives, whom she loved so much.
But before I proceed, I want Mom to have a good day today, as I am sure she is having.
We owe it to her.
I know it’s a hard thing to ask…but for the moment, let’s try not cry for our loss, which, of course, is great and unfathomable.
She knows we’re saddened, but she wouldn’t want us to mope on this day.
Instead, let’s cheer for her victory. And entrance to a new life.
She’s “graduated.” Moved on. Or as they say, “She has split this joint.”
As a friend of mine said to me yesterday, “think of it more as a ‘start’ or return, rather than an end.
And I am sure of that. I am sure that she would want us to celebrate, as we did last night during the visitation. Sure, there were tears from Dad, Amanda, Martina and I at the beginning, but pretty soon afterwards, the fog had lifted and the light flooded in, along with many memories. And both were bright. The mood shifted. Mom made sure there was laughter and remembrance, joy and witty, animated conversation. Dad felt calm. I felt relaxed. Amanda joked with friends. It was an unassailable fact: mom had a hand in bringing us peace that evening.
So, without further ado…I’d like to push the rewind button and remember some of our memories together.
Let’s call it “Scenes from a Wonderful Life”
Many of my friends growing up who I have spoken to recently said what a “cool” mom she was. And what they meant by that is that she never treated us teenagers as kids. She treated us kids as adults….and peers. My friends felt they could “talk” to her…on the level. She and my sister were more than mere mother and daughter…they were best friends. Often they’d go out together for drinks at the little bar at La Fonda on Main or even catch a band at Casbeer’s…and remember, mother was an octogenarian. Which almost anyone who met her found impossible to believe.
We were fortunate enough to get a front row seat to her life and bear witness to her elegance, charm, caring and wit as a son, a daughter and a husband. Hear all of the stories about the Neale family, which she was so proud of. Her times in New Orleans and New York as a young woman. The time a rep for Christian Dior spotted her in Frost Brothers and asked if she would model for them. She said “thanks, but no thanks.” It’s true: as much as she could have wanted to….she never wanted to call attention to herself. She had the mind, precision and organization of a CEO or general, but she was more than happy and content to be a wife and mother of two children here in San Antonio.
When I was in college, Mom never asked me about classes or grade point averages. She asked me if I were having fun. How was the party last weekend? What kind of people are you meeting? But above all: Are you having a good time? That was what counted to her. Not the score on an English exam.
Of course, she was a clothes horse. She could not walk into Saks Fifth Avenue without walking out with a shopping bag. She’d buy a pair of Dolce & Gabbana sandals like they were flip flops. She loved to take Amanda shopping. It was an adventure for both of them. She approached shopping like she approached the world…with an insatiable curiosity and passion. She indeed elevated it to an art form.
Mom loved to cook. And eat. Which is rare for a perpetually trim woman. She greatly expanded our kitchen of our original house, turning it into a restaurant level kitchen. She had more cookbooks than most bookstores and had subscribed to Gourmet magazine since the 1960s. One day, she decided she would donate her entire collection of Gourmet magazines to Trinity University. A few months after doing so, she deeply regretted it. Oh, what a foolish mistake, she mused. Luckily, through an act of fate, my Dad happened upon an entire bound set of Gourmet magazines at Cheever Books and promptly snapped them up. Indeed, he knew how to make her happy. That’s how much he loved her. How devoted he was to her. How he would do anything and everything for her.
Mom also loved animals. Sometimes more than some people. She was in love with her Jack Russell Terrier Sophie. They used to walk the hills of Alamo Heights, twice a day, well into her 70s, in the heat of the San Antonio sun, with the pace and stamina of a thirty-year-old. When she was in the hospital, she really missed seeing Sophie. She would have loved her company. Perhaps someday in the future, they will allow pets in hospital rooms. I really don’t see why not.
She loved her fellowship with the members of the Holley Garden club and the Assistance League. She also belong to a club called the Liberty Bar, or at least it seemed like a club the way Mom and Dad used to go there. For a number of years, they had lunch there literally every single day. Rudy always made sure to reserve them a table and bring them the “fresh” bread and regale them with stories.
As a Mom, she was devoted to us kids. We couldn’t have asked for more attention and affection. Mom loved to visit me and my sister Amanda in college. Mom and Dad drove all the way from Texas to Virginia dozens of times to visit us. They made a road trip out of it. They both knew how to make anything into a great adventure, even if they were having breakfast at a Waffle House or dinner at a Morrison’s cafeteria. Mom loved meeting our college friends and they loved meeting her.
Then there was New York. She loved New York, like nobody’s business. She knew New York so well, from reading the New York Times daily and The New Yorker, that I’d actually ask her for advice about the latest things going on in the city.
And I’ll tell ya, she did NOT love the fact that we moved to LA seven years ago.
Mom was epicurious and adventurous and tried all the great restaurants in the city from Nobu to Lutece to Gotham to Bouley to the Peking Duck House in Chinatown. And all the great, old fashioned diners in between. We would walk through Central Park and take in the fall air, see the leaves change. Tour the Met, catch a play, visit the Hamptons, shop in SoHo, trek in midtown and stay at the nicest hotels in the city. We had no idea how precious that time was together. I mean, we appreciated it, but looking upon those times now, I wish I could have bottled those moments. Something like Total Recall or The Matrix….but happy, loving, unscary experiences. But now I realize that you can. They are just called memories. Ones that will never, ever, ever fade.
She loved music. Frank Sinatra, Stephane Grapelli, Cole Porter, Dizzy Gillespie, Billy Holiday, Dinah Washington, Tony Bennett and Ella Fitzgerald. She loved listening to KRTU in the morning with her coffee, toast and marmalade. Mom influenced all of us with her great taste in arts and culture, whether painting, architecture, food, history, film or just PBS.
She also loved movies. Big time. She had an encyclopedic knowledge of old Hollywood stars and films. She loved William Holden, Humphrey Bogart and Barbara Stanwyck.
Mom was a huge Woody Allen fan. Especially his films “Hannah and Her Sisters,” “Broadway Danny Rose” and “Manhattan Murder Mystery,” which we watched with her many, many times. We even saw Woody Allen once together in New York, walking down Madison Avenue, back in the day. And Amanda was sure to bring her favorite movies to the hospital, so she could escape for a while. And she never grew tired of watching “Sideways.”
One of her favorite films was “Shop Around the Corner.” If you haven’t seen it, watch it tonight. It’s a witty, feel-good, romantic comedy. They don’t make them like that any more. Just like they don’t make women like Elsie Neale Strickland anymore. It’s true. Perhaps she is engaging in witty conversation with James Stewart as we speak and remarking on the nice turnout she had today.
Mom, I really want to thank you for giving your family your full and undivided attention. You made sure that we had every meal together, talking to each other and enjoying your wonderful food, rather than multitasking, zoning out and watching TV. You spent time preparing every single meal from scratch. You made sure we ate and were tucked in. You never poured from a can nor opened a box. And your fried chicken, okra gumbo and mashed potatoes were some of the best in the land.
Mom used to love to hear about my travels around the world. She never traveled abroad herself, as she absolutely refused to fly, but she had a chance to “travel” with me, if you will, to London, to Paris, to Rome….to Taipei….Tokyo….Thailand and India and Australia, wherever I went, she went, through postcards, pictures and conversation.
And now, she has traveled someplace else altogether….just beyond that fragile, delicate boundary of that separates the mortal….to a new life. She is not far off, but actually quite close. And she is still with us…and us in her. I realized that last night at the visitation. Her presence had a calming, soothing effect on those of us who are grieving the most. And she is certainly with and part of her three-week old granddaughter Abbey Lee Neale Strickland. I know that, for sure….because when I put my finger out to her little hand, she grasps it with a might that is exactly like Mom’s…..even when Mom was in the hospital.
I am happy and comforted to know that Abbey will have an amazing grandmother for inspiration and guidance. And a guardian angel to protect her through life.
May Elsie Neale Strickland live on in Abbey…..in Amanda….in Dad… and in all of us.
Amen.
