Capt. Mondo's World o' Mondo-ness

Eulogy for My Mother
The funeral occurred today at the M.W. Becker Funeral Home in Keswick. It was good to see so many of Mom's friends turn up for the service.

Here’s the eulogy I delivered at Mom’s funeral:

Dear Friends:

Thank you for coming here today. We are here to honour and celebrate the memory of Mildred Evelyn Roberts; my Mother, a loving Grandmother, and friend to many of those who are here today. She is gone now, but she will be fondly remembered, and deeply missed. No life can be adequately summed up in only a few words, but I’d like to share some thoughts of her with you.

A child of the depression era, Mildred Evelyn Alder was born in Kent, England in 1923. In addition to her parents she had an elder brother, John, and many cousins and other relatives in her large, loving, extended family. Mom didn’t talk too much about her early life to me, but it must have been a fun one, going by all of the pictures I’ve seen of her. There are pictures of her with a host of family members on picnics, taking rowboat rides down the backwaters of the Thames, and doing amateur theatrics. My favourite picture has to be one taken when she was just a little girl, sitting on a couple of boxes in her backyard, a small kitten on her lap, and an obvious tickled-pink expression on her face. It was this picture I remember seeing when I first recognized that my Mother was once a kid herself. This lovely sense of playfulness and kindness carried through her life and must have come from a happy and relatively carefree childhood.

During the Second World War she signed up, and served as a member of the Women’s Royal Navy Service. She was stationed in Britain, and her main job was helping to look after the children of naval servicemen. This love of children continued with her after the end of the war, and she decided to become a nanny. Her underlying sense of adventure came to the fore, and she applied not only for local positions but for ones overseas in North America. I’ll always remember her telling me about the excitement she had about applying for – and perhaps almost getting – a job as nanny to Bette Davis in California. It is just as well for me that she didn’t get that job, otherwise she would not have meet her future husband here in Canada. Instead she took a position as nanny for the Lucas family, who lived in Toronto. She boarded the Queen Mary and sailed across the Atlantic to a place so different from the one she left. She made many friends here from those days, including a few who are here today.

That first taste of travel must have given her a bug for adventure, because a few years later she became a travel agent, and she traveled extensively, going all over Europe as well as making the occasional visit to family back home in England. I remember as a child seeing souvenirs from far-off lands, and her telling me stories of riding a gondola in Venice, enjoying the warm sun while in the south of France and her love for her native land – all of which seemed very exotic for a young lad like myself growing up in Keswick.

It was while she was working at the travel agency that she met Henry Roberts, a handsome man who originally hailed from Liverpool in England. He was so taken with her that he proposed to her a week later, and soon after they were married. I arrived on the scene a year later, much to their surprise, as they were both in their 40s and were not thinking of starting a family. However, they were overjoyed and Mom quit her job in order to become a full-time Mom for me. I understand that I was quite the handful when I was young. Her previous experience as a nanny definitely paid off, and I can honestly say that I cannot remember a single angry word from her, or if there were any, they have all been superceded by far happier memories. I remember once when I was quite young, sneaking a drink that I had seen an adult have and my Mom caught me. I remember thinking that she was going to be angry with me, but instead she smiled and asked if I wanted some more. This was my first cup of tea, and how could anyone from England be angry about that? I also remember holding her hand nervously when she took me to my first day of school; mopping my feverish brow when I was sick with chicken pox; and the many happy times at Xmases and birthdays. Mom was always there.

Besides my Father, one of the great loves of her life was for her garden. She had many gardens over the years, and I grew up thinking that a home without an indoor or outdoor garden of some sort was an impossibility. I think one of the main reasons for us moving to Keswick back in the 1970s was the extensive garden she knew she could have. Finally her green thumb reigned free over our front and back yards, rewarding her work with a fresh display of colour ever year. I believe Spring was her favourite time of year, for it was then that she could start her plantings and get down to the serious business of gardening. Soon after moving up here she joined the local horticultural society, where she made many long and lasting friendships. She was always an active member of this club, and I remember how proud I was one day when she was there to help plant a tree on behalf of the society in front of my public school. There were also the annual Easter trips to Niagara Falls, not so much to see the town’s watery spectacle as to visit the expansive greenhouses showing off the latest plants, many of which would later adorn our own gardens. I never caught the gardening bug myself, but she left with me a lasting appreciation for the beauty of nature.

I was told recently that during a stay in the hospital, she was visited by some of her friends from the Horticultural Society, and was given an honourary lifetime membership in recognition for her extensive work in this area. I am sure that this honour must have brought a heartfelt smile to her face.

She was married to my Father for over 30 years, and I know that she felt lost when he passed away 6 years ago. I have to applaud the efforts of her friends here in Keswick, who helped to make his passing much easier for her to take, ensuring that she was not lonely. She became even more active in her social activities, and I remember once coming for a visit and finding that the sunroom had become a near-jungle of flowers, mixed in with creations from her craft club proudly displayed. In particular, I’d like to thank Maurice Sandel who was always at hand when needed, called me regularly whenever Mom was experiencing some sort of trouble and was a great friend and comfort to Mom. I don’t doubt that her life would have been shorter and less happier without having Maurice around.

After my Father’s death she took the chance to travel again, making a solo trip back home to see her friends and family in England. I remember how happy, she was about taking this trip, and we saw her off as she proudly wore a brand-new purple coat and hat bought especially for the occasion. She looked positively radiant, and there was an excited sparkle in her eye. She brought back some great photos, including shots gleefully visiting the set of her favourite show “Coronation Street”, and looking understatedly but firmly regal while sitting down on a royal throne found on an adjacent television set.

My Father didn’t live long enough to see the birth of his first Grandchildren, but I am so glad that my Mother did. She was very proud of being a Grandmother, and loved the visits we made to her first with Vanessa, and later with Annie. She relished this role; there always seemed to be a special treat available whenever my children came along for a visit, and the knitting needles were forever making small sweaters for my daughters. She loved the colourful artworks produced by my elder daughter, and proudly displayed the latest pencil-crayon creation on her fridge at home, and later on the walls of the nursing home. My Mother took great pleasure in the goings-on with her Grand-daughters. She repeatedly told me how tickled she was by the impromptu “ballet” performance provided by my elder daughter during what would prove to be my Mother’s last visit to our house last summer, and always asked how her ballet lessons were going.

The last year of her life was a hard one. Her lung condition worsened to the point where she needed a constant supply of oxygen. This prevented her from doing many of the things she loved to do: going to her horticultural and craft club meetings, going on extended trips, even doing work of any sort in her own garden, which had always given her much joy and pleasure. She was seldom without need of a wheelchair. For the past few years we would make annual trips to the Spring flower show in Toronto, and she would apologize prior to asking me to escort her around the exhibits in a wheelchair. I always kidded her that I didn’t mind, as this was my annual chance to “push my Mother around" as I took her eagerly from one exhibit or presentation to the next. But the lack of oxygen unfortunately began to affect her mental state, and soon her memory began to wander, which further restricted her movements in her own home and led to many, repeated trips to the hospital. When I would go and visit her I was always struck by her gentleness and kindness, even when at her worst. There were time when I wasn’t sure she remembered exactly who I was. I last saw my Mother at The Willows nursing home this past Xmastime, and thought how well she had recovered from a bout of pneumonia that had put her into the hospital only a month before. But I also noted that her oxygen dosage had been significantly increased, and it seemed to me that she might not have recognized the two little girls who were playing at her feet.

One of my chief regrets of my life will be that I was not present when she passed away, peacefully, early this past Tuesday morning. As sad as this news was, I knew that it was ultimately a release for her. There’s a hole in my heart where my Mother’s love used to be. This has been a time when I have been glad for the support of family and friends.

There was one quality about Mom that everybody always seems to talk about: that she was always charming, and never complained, even under trying circumstances. She was lovely. She will be missed.

Thank you all for coming.

A couple of ladies from the horticultural society Mom belonged to also said some kind words in praise of Mom's extensive work with them over more than 30 years.

Jane W. also gave me a few pages, which I read on her behalf to those in attendance. Will have to copy them out post them here.