Eulogy By Sylvia Harder

In the days and hours before her passing, we promised our

mother that she was going to a beautiful place where she

could watch over us every day, and I know that she is

watching over all of us no, just as she watched over all of

us in life.

Not so many days ago, we were with our mother when the

doctor came to tell her of the extent of her illness. She was

so brave - for us I think - for she never wanted anything to

hurt her kids. We wheeled her down to the cafeteria for a

cup of tea - and to get her out of her room. She sat across

from me at the table, digesting what she had just learned,

and she said, "It doesn't matter how hard I fight, I can't

win this one, can I". I nodded my head. She considered

carefully, and then said, "Well, I will just have to do the

best I can."

I think those words best characterize my mother's life. She

did the best she could. Mom's early years were spent on a

farm in Innisfail. A family tragedy forced everyone off the

farm and she went to live with her dear sister and her

husband until she married my dad when she was 18.

When dad joined the Air Force during the war, he wrote to

mom about the many brave women who had also joined, and

inferred that mom didn't have the grit to sign up herself. It

seems to me that dad mustn't have known his wife very well

because of course she joined, and I believe those years were

'a time to remember', as they were for so many vets.

It wasn't until a few years after the war that my brother

and I joined them.

I remember mom as always working to help keep the family

afloat. We were a 'no frills' family. When my dad died in

1965 she found herself a widow at the age of 45 with two

teenage children to raise on her own on a waitress's salary,

"plus tips", which she always reminded people of.

It wasn't easy. The world breaks everyone, then some become

strong on the broken places. That was true for our mom. I

know that in later years she regretted not being a traditional

mother to us, but she did the best she could - and I like to

think she was proud of her children. She was a good mom

and she was always there when we needed her.

She cared deeply for her whole family of brothers and sister

and nieces and nephews and tried to keep up to date on

everyone - taking their joys and struggles to her own heart.

It wasn't until she joined the Knight and Day Restaurant,

which she loved, and where she worked for over 20 years,

that she truly began to amass her personal fortune...... in

friends. Her employers, the Papases, her co-workers, her

customers over the years became her friends. Our mother is

"Auntie Lil" to so many people - meaning that I have a

huge number of cousins that I have never met.

Her friends were her chosen family and she cared for them

with every ounce of love she shared with her given family.

She treasured the Knight and Day so much that she stayed

well beyond her retirement age. Though many days were a

struggle, the connection was important to her, and she did

the best she could.

Eventual retirement was a major adjustment, which she had

dreaded, but she added to her friendships some lovely people

in her building, with whom she enjoyed daily adventures to

Middlegate and who knows what other mischief.

Our mother was the definition of Fiercely Independent. She

had been for as long as I can remember. She was a

woman of grit and determination. She was a fighter. She

was a woman of tremendous caring. She was a woman who

never aspired to leap tall buildings or conquer worlds. She

worked hard just to keep life and limb together and to

nurture her given and chosen families.

I like to think in doing so she attained loftier heights. And,

she always did the best she could.

Our mother would not wish for us to linger long in the sorrow

of her passing. Indeed she would be very upset that she had

caused any of us any sadness at all - for that was the way

of our mother.

Rather, she would wish for us to get on with the business of

our earthly lives, thinking of her from time to time with fond

and loving remembrance, and drawing from her example and

doing the best we can.