Facing Death…And Discovering A Powerful Life Lesson

Your life changes forever when you lose a loved one. Of course, the world goes on around you, often like nothing at all has changed. But your world will never be the same.

One thing is for sure, you see the world in a new light when you are grieving. You see triteness, you see ignorance and you see intolerance expressed that robs our human-ness. You see insensitivity and the misguided rantings of others with a heightened sense of disbelief. To be perfectly blunt and honest, you see the trivial shit that people put time and energy into and you think, “WTF?”

The good news is that you also see what is truly important. You get to focus on what really matters. You can open your eyes and be touched by amazing, kind and inspiring people. And you have a chance to question your own role in perpetuating the bad or the good through your own actions. Perhaps I’m overly sensitive given the immediacy of my pain, but I think there is an important lesson that my loss could shed and it’s a lesson that my mom would want shared. It’s a lesson that epitomizes her life.

Below is the eulogy I gave for my mom. I hope that you will let her story give you time to reflect on your own life and how you can become a better person.

To understand mom, you have to know more about her story. It’s a story that few people know because it’s not something she shared. In many ways, my mom had a tough life…filled with struggles and hardships that would knock most of us to our knees. I think when your life story is etched with deep beds of pain…you have a choice…you can either get bitter or you can get better. Mom ALWAYS chose better.

It started with a tough beginning. She was born a twin, one of two girls in November 1931. Joan and Jackie. Shortly after they arrived in the world, my grandmother’s husband and their father walked out of their lives. From what I’ve always been told, the reason why was pretty shocking. He wanted a son. While, he and my grandmother had a son, young Pete died in infancy. Despite the fact that he had two beautiful daughters, he did not have the heart, love or decency to be apart of their lives. Mom saw her natural father only a couple times in her entire life. There was no relationship there. My grandmother being the proud and independent woman she was did not ask for any child support, nor did she receive any.

Think about that for a minute… 1931…a young mother with two infants and no support. To survive, my grandmother, Phoebe Crandall, became a nurse. She discovered she could make more money working on a cargo ship than in a medical facility…but that made for a gut-wrenching decision. She had to put the girls in an orphanage while she was out to sea. So my mom and her sister, Joan, lived in an orphanage for about six years, between the ages of 2 and 8…with only periodic visits from my grandmother.

My grandmother eventually remarried and the family was reunited under the steady hand of Mom’s new step-father – Robert Best. He was a civil engineer and found work with the military. So the family was uprooted often traveling from base to base. In fact, mom grew up living in San Diego, Chulavista, Denver, Portland and Huron, South Dakota to name a few.

In 1941, they were stationed in Hawaii. And on December 7 of that year, they were in their small home just outside of Hickam Field when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. Startled by the loud noise and billowing smoke, Grandma got mom, Joan and their baby brother Bobby under a bed to take cover. During the raid, there was complete chaos and pandemonium as sirens blared and thick black smoke filled the morning sky. Later that morning, my mom, at 10 years old, saw her neighbor shot and killed literally yards away from where she was standing. As the day progressed, the family was able to be evacuated to higher ground on the island.

Fast forward and mom was strickened with polio as a junior in high school – this was before there was a vaccine. Mom had to be bedridden and on a strict regimen for the better part of a year and could not continue on with her class in school.

Over the years, mom experienced plenty of loss. First a stillborn child who didn’t make it through childbirth. Then, the loss of her eldest daughter, Crandall, to a car accident when she was just 21. Certainly one of the most tragic things any parent could ever face.

She fought breast cancer twice and won. She had a bout with skin cancer as well, and again, she triumphed.

There were other medical challenges along the way. Twice, when she was on life support, we were told that her chances of survival were slim to none. But she pulled through miraculously.

Then she lost the love of her life; first to Alzheimers and then to death. When the professional caregivers discovered that mom was the sole and primary caregiver for dad over the last six years of his life, they were in disbelief that she could manage it all by herself without any professional help. But she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Despite external appearances, she was fiercely stubborn and strong. In today’s vernacular, you could say she was a bit of a badass! And she proved it over and over!

But mom’s life was not all tough and tumble…she had an amazing life filled with love and purpose as well.

She did have the perfect love story…

At least it was perfect for her, despite a very rocky and auspicious start.

Mom was set up on a blind date by her sister Joan and her boyfriend, Joe. It was over the fall break at Radford University. Everyone had gone home for break. Dad was working in Radford, having recently graduated from Tech, and mom did not have the money to travel home to Portland, Oregon.

Dad, with an award-winning Gomer Pyle act, greeted mom by saying, “Howdy, it’s a pleasure to meet up with ya!” He reached out his hand and shook mom’s vigorously. “ Mom recalled the story many times over the years. She thought, “What turnip truck did this guy fall off?”

They proceeded to dinner, a nice restaurant with white tablecloths known for its steak and lobsters. In fact, there was a large fish tank where the lobster were on view so patrons could make their dinner choice. Apparently, dad and Joe reached in and grabbed lobsters and began a bit of a dueling lobster fight. They were shortly, thereafter, asked to leave.

Before the night was over, it was on to dancing. As the hall filled with the voice of Perry Como crooning in the background, dad escorted mom to the dance floor where he confidently announced that he was a good dancer and was even a grad-u-ate from Arthur Murray’s Dance Studio (he wasn’t). He then proceeded to do a very herky-jerky ballroom four-step, counting each move as he moved awkwardly from step to step. The whole time, mom’s thoughts were, “What I’ve I gotten myself into?”

At the end of the evening, dad busted out in laughter as he discarded his “hick from Ashland” persona. He told mom that he thought a sense of humor was really important and had been testing mom to see if she was a good sport. Apparently, she passed with flying colors…because we know the rest of the story. They were married a year and a half later.

After their marriage, mom and dad moved to dad’s hometown, Ashland, Virginia. Mom started working for Hanover County Public Schools as an elementary school teacher. A young newlywed, she loved teaching. She was also madly in love with dad and at the blink of the eye, she was pregnant. She worried about telling her boss, Nelson Taylor. She went into his office feeling anxious and nervous. Worried to share the news for fear of his reaction, she stammered, “I’m pregnant. I don’t know how it happened! Mr. Taylor laughed and laughed and then calmly asked her if she needed a lesson in the birds and the bees.

She continued to teach for about 40 years, give or take, impacting generations of kids and families.

She was the perfect mom and grandmother. Not to say she was perfect. In many ways she was a hot mess! Growing up, we were always running late, the house was always a disaster, she would get over emotional, BUT she did all the really important things perfectly.

She was always there. She was always present. And she was always focused on us and others. Having four kids, who were always involved in school or sport activities, mom was always on the run. She was the mom who took us to practice and picked us up. She was there for every game, home or away. When my brother Dan and I played on the Ashland Little League football team, not only would she take us to where we needed to go, she would make sure that no kid was left behind.

Often, in those days, some of the kids had parents who worked or didn’t have the means or time to be there for their own children. Mom would cheerfully gather the extra boys into our station wagon. Those were the days when you could cram 12 kids into a car and no one thought twice about it. Often times, we would stop for snacks, drinks or a meal after a game and mom, true to form, would make sure that no kid did without. She would not eat herself if it meant that one of the many kids that were drawn to her kindness could.

I remember watching my mom’s generosity over and over, week after week. She never hesitated to be there for any of the kids that needed her. While there may have been other parents who stepped up, I honestly can’t remember seeing others who did so like my mom.

For the first time in my life, I remember being consciously “in awe” of my amazing mother.

My siblings and I were not star athletes. There were many times when we sat on the bench for the entire game, yet my mom was always there, cheering louder than anyone else on the sidelines.

Regardless of our accomplishments, she was so PROUD of each of us…her four children – Crandall, myself, Dan and Meredith, her five grandchildren – Crandall, Ryan, Bryce, Mitchell and Brett.

And if she was speaking to you today…that would be all she would be talking about. It was a bit embarrassing to us actually. While she would never boast about herself, she couldn’t help herself when it came to her family. Usually our feats were exaggerated and we just learned to roll our eyes. But she was so PROUD.

While we were showered with unconditional love and support, Mom didn’t stop with the family. She was always volunteering and helping others in small and big ways.

Let me take you back to when I was in 8^th grade. Mom and I delivered a Christmas, complete with gifts along with a turkey and all the fixings for a holiday feast, to a young family going through hard times. The dad of the family of four had lost his job. I remember feeling self-conscious, awkward and unsure how to approach this family. I wondered if the father would have too much pride to accept our offerings.

I also remembered I liked the thought of helping others but the actual reality of reaching out seemed awkward and hard to me as a 13 year-old boy. What I remember most from that experience is that none of my preconceived perceptions were true.

Mom handled the situation with such grace and warmth and the family was visually moved and appreciative. She knew exactly what to say to make them feel comfortable and at ease…and not the least bit embarrassed by their misfortune.

I remember for the second time in my life, I was consciously “in awe” of my amazing mother.

Every year, since she retired from teaching, she was so passionate to buy school supplies for needy children and families. She would head to Walmart and fill up grocery carts full of notebooks, pencils, paper and other supplies. She didn’t have the disposable income to match her generous spirit, but that never stopped her.

She volunteered for countless organizations and gave to so many needy causes. Always ready to help any way she could.

But it was the everyday acts of generosity that were her calling card. Often to complete strangers.

Many years ago, I was director of marketing and sales for a company. One of the offices I managed was in Raleigh, North Carolina. My sales manager in that location at the time was a woman named Emily Sarella. She shared with me that her mom had been diagnosed with breast cancer. Later when I mentioned casually to mom that one of my employee’s mothers had been diagnosed, she immediately asked if I could get Emily’s mom’s address, so she could send her a note. Mom, of course, sent a long heartfelt letter (three pages long I later learned from Emily) with lots of encouragement and support. Then, Emily’s mom followed up with a sincere thank you card. And thus began an ongoing pen pal relationship that lasted for years.

To mom that was normal. It didn’t matter if you were family, a friend or a total stranger. As her kids, we usually tried to reign her in. You see if we shared that someone did something nice for one of us, she would immediately want to send them a note, buy them a small gift or something else. It was not unusal for us to say, “It’s ok mom…you don’t have to do anything.” But that was just her way.

As we’ve been talking over the last couple of days, my sister Meredith said that mom recently went up to a gas station in Caroline County to get some gas in her car. She went there because it was where she could get the cheapest gas, despite being a couple miles out of her way.  Mom went inside to pay the cashier and they got into a conversation. Turns out, mom later that day goes into town and buys her a set of dishes and tells Meredith, “She needs it, because she doesn’t have very much.”

Who else does that? I can understand having a friendly conversation with a cashier about the weather or exchanging casual pleasantries. But how mom walked away with knowing that this woman could use a set of dishes is beyond me. And then going out of her way to drive 10 miles in the opposite direction, buy dishes and return with them is something that only my mother would do.

You see, mom’s generosity and kindness wasn’t a once and a while thing, this is how she lived her life. And it’s not like mom was rolling in the money. She was living on a fixed retirement income, always waiting for her next check to come in. But she would give her last dollar to a stranger if needed.

After dad passed away in 2008, Dan, Meredith and I decided to collectively make sure mom had our companionship and not just when we were all together for family gatherings. We decided we would individually make special time just for mom throughout the week. So mom and I started our Sunday night tradition of having dinner together. Over the last seven plus years, Mom and I have had countless one-on-one conversations that I will forever treasure. At one of those dinners, I wondered if mom ever thought about her own legacy.

So I asked her, “Mom, what would you want to be remembered for? “Without hesitation, she said, “That I was a giving person. That I cared about others.”

Then she shared something with me that I’m sure she never shared with anyone else. It was our secret…until now.

She said, “I try to do something nice for someone else at least…” (I thought she was going to say… at least once a week or maybe …at least once a day). She said, “I try to do something nice for someone else at least…three times a day!” So it wasn’t just about being nice when the opportunity presented itself, which she did naturally…but she consciously sought out opportunities to brighten someone else’s day and put a smile on their face.

Once again, I was “in awe” of my amazing mother.

Ironically or perhaps it’s just suiting that in the last year, she was diagnosed by her doctors with an enlarged heart. When she got the diagnosis, I remember her telling me…”I’m not sure what that means…an enlarged heart.” I smiled and thought to myself, it was the perfect diagnosis for Jackie Turner.

My mom taught a lot of lessons over her 40-year career as a teacher. As you move forward beyond today, I ask you to take away a lesson that will have my mom smiling down from heaven.

• Smile at a stranger
• Write a note to a friend
• Share yourself with others unselfishly
• Show compassion, be kind
• Do something…do anything to help your fellow man.

Thursday night, I ran out to A.C. Moore. I needed to get a stand for one of the framed pictures of mom for the table at the memorial service. I was standing immediately behind a young woman in the check-out line. The guy at the register asked if she had a reward card. She said “No.” He said, “Would you like one?” She said “Ok.”

He started taking her information and was having a hard time entering it all right. She had to spell and re-spell her name, her address, etc. Normally, by now, I would start feeling a little exasperated as I waited. But I must have been unconsciously channeling a bit of my mom and I said to myself, “Will, you’re in no hurry. Just relax. It may take another minute or another five minutes…either way, it’s ok.”

The clerk rang up her first several items and then he got to her two balls of yarn. She asked for the subtotal before he rung up the yarn. He told her and she asked to only get one of the balls of yarn. She was not going to be able to get both. At that point, I looked at her and said, “I’ve got that.” She looked a bit surprised but also pleased.

The clerk finished her transaction and I handed him the remaining ball of yarn and my picture stand. After he rang up the yarn, I handed it to her and said, “This is for Jackie. She’s my mother and she always did kind things for others. She just passed away two days ago and I want to do this small thing for you. When and if you can, you can pay it forward to someone else.” She offered her sympathy, thanked me, I smiled and she left. It felt good and I surprised myself with the calmness of my delivery. By the time I got in my car, the floodgates opened. I balled like a baby all the way home. But it was exactly what mom would have done.

And for a very brief moment, I was able to step quietly into her huge shoes.

Denzel Washington said, “At the end of the day, it’s not about what you have or even what you’ve accomplished…it’s about who you lifted up, who you’ve made better. It’s about what you’ve given back.” I’ve never known anyone who embodied those words more than my amazing mom.

What a wonderful legacy and a powerful ripple effect her life could have if each of us embraced some of her compassion, her empathy and her generosity…if we all purposefully did three nice things for other people every single day!

So here’s what I want you to do to share the ripple. Take the time to do three things for others in the next day. And if you need to, stretch it out over the next week or the next month, that’s ok too. And when you do something nice for someone, whomever you bestow your kindness to, you can tell ‘em, “This is for Jackie!”