Hank: Izobel Mary Enzweiler known as “Judy” left us peacefully in her sleep on the morning of October 21, and we are gathered here to say G’bye.
Mom's Garden by Pam:
Everyone who knew Mom knew she loved her garden. She wrote in her memoirs:
"My father was a very quiet, private person who loved his garden and from him I learned to love the garden as well. I would often sit beside his spade as he worked, turning the soil. I loved the sweet smell of the earth."
Though she never said so, I think after beautifying the garden of our townhouse in Lombard and getting the cute little tool shed which nestled between our neighbor’s tall pines and our dogwoods, Mom was reluctant to leave. So when we moved into our cottage in LaPorte, as always, her thoughts turned to the garden, or lack of one. Mom, Bev and I put our heads together and came up with a plan that soon evolved into a place of beauty. What was once a lawn with one tree became a lush and tranquil garden. No garden of Mom’s was complete without a Japanese maple, variegated dogwoods, peonies, or her favorite annual, petunias. She loved the bright colored moss roses, delicate alyssum, and the purple lobelias. She would often sit in a white wicker chair in the sun room, looking at her little slice of heaven, watching butterflies, honeybees, squirrels, chipmunks and birds. How she loved to watch the birds come and go at the feeders and the birdbath, and to see the tiny wrens nesting in the little wooden houses that hung outside the window. I was reminded when the seed needed filling, and thanks to a pesky squirrel, that was almost daily.
Although not a religious person, Mom loved her St. Francis statue, not because he was a man of the cloth, but because like Mom, St. Francis loved and cared for the birds. Mom never minded paying for seed or flowers or pots or anything related to the garden—it was her joy. A simple pleasure, yet one that she could share with her daughters. So it seems only fitting to plant a tree in Mom’s honor. . . here in the garden she so loved. Here she will rest. . . among the flowers and the birds and the smell of sweet earth, where she will forever be part of her beloved garden.
Mom's Eulogy by Steve
In these past12 days since mom’s passing, Pam, Bev, Gary & I have been immersed in the process of putting Mom to rest - planning, making decisions, looking over old pictures, cards, letters, thinking of stories, talking about travels and travails, - hers - and ours, together, crying and laughing and even arguing.
Pam suggested putting together a website dedicated to Mom’s memory and we all agreed it would be a great thing. We started out just thinking it would be an nice tribute to our mom, a gesture of love - a way of keeping in her memory alive. I don’t think any of us realized what a cathartic, cleansing and inspiring process it would turn out to be.
Reminiscing and sharing about Mom, we all started to consider deeply what her life meant - at least to us.
It’s hard to imagine the world she grew up in - the changes she saw in her long life, in a time and place so far removed from what we’re all familiar with.
Mom’s parents were British subjects during the reign of Queen Victoria. Their parents and grandparents were born in England. Unlike most early European Australians, who were transported to the penal colony for petty crimes, her ancestors chose to come to the country of their own free will.
I can picture mom as young girl raised as a very proper turn-of-the-century Englishwoman in family that worked very hard trying hard to create a decent home where everyone was expected act civilly and genteel. Manners and appearance were a given.
Even tho her family was comfortable, life was hard. No TV, No phone, no fridge, minimal heat.
Their house was at the edge of the Melbourne’s suburbs, close to the city, but surrounded by open fields and farmland. Nature was close at hand. Her dad was an avid gardner and they had fruit trees in their yard. One of their trees was eaten by the local dairy farmer’s cow. Mom loved her Dad and loved helping him in the garden. I think gardening was equated with love. Passed from her dad to her, then to her kids.
She was not what I would call outdoorsy, but she loved nature, especially birds.
She had an idyllic childhood. She was very happy as a kid. As an adult, even when times were troubled, she said she always woke up and jumped out of bed, excited about what the day might bring. There are so many great stories of those times and I’m really glad she wrote a lot of them down in her memoirs. They say it all and any attempt for me to tell any would fall short.
Mom was a extremely generous. It took me ‘till I was well into adulthood to figure out that that was how she expressed her love. Not so much for material things - but more as a way to share experiences. As an adult, she never had much, but she always managed to get the money for things she thought were important: dance or music lessons, trips, plants, gifts, a trumpet, a drum set.
Every month, till she left us, she wrote out a check for her favorite charities. She always stuck up for the underdog.
Mom was not just a warm cup of tea with milk, cream puffs on the side. She could be cool, obstinate and opinionated - and often dismissive with an “Oh piffle!” Or, “He’s a no hoper”
Mom loved simple things: the garden, household projects, a good book, a good laugh, daily crossword puzzles - her mind was sharp ‘til the end. She was always a hard worker, competent, respected at her job, and ready to lend a hand - always a cup to tea nearby, English style.
In company, she was always polite and pleasant, she loved a good laugh. And she really did love people - even when she lost patience with them. She always spoke with delight about all her grand kids and great grand kids, and kept careful track of their lives while she was able. She was a great listener and she always had something interesting to say, a great story or thoughtful opinion. When you talked to her, it was always a two way street. I’ll miss the great conversations we shared. The hysterics, The great times we had playing games together late into the night - especially “Risk”. I know we all miss the trips we took together.
So looking back over mom’s life - with a magnifying glass, the realization struck us how unique a person she was. How exotic. Born of such a different time and place which we, frankly didn’t really get. And how she must have struggled with American culture, her in-laws, and her crazy American kids. She was just our mom. But what a life! How do you sum it up in a short speech. It’s an impossible task. What did mom believe? What’s her legacy? One thing for sure, her love for us always shined through - even if we may have taken it for granted or didn’t always understand it.
In her journal, she had hand-written a quote from the Aussie poet, Adam Lindsey Gordon,
“Life is mostly froth and bubble, Two things stand like stone,
Kindness in each other’s troubles,
And courage in your own.”
I think she tried to live up to the ideals of these sentiments. But Being human, she didn’t always succeed.
For Mom, I kinda like this quote from Emerson:
“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children….to leave the world a better place...to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”
By this measure, Mom was a success.
Her legacy? Well, we see this tree as a symbol for her love of living things, love of nature and of adding richness to our lives, providing shelter, sustenance and nurturance. We would be such different people without her. As much as I miss her already, I know we haven’t begun to feel the hole that’s left in our lives. When he heard of Mom’s passing, a good friend of mine wrote:
As a tree can only bear fruit of itself, you are all evidence of the rich source from which you spring.
So we are her legacy. Her kids, Grand kids, Great grand kids. - All of us that grew from the things she planted. The adventures past and future live in us, the memories of the richness she added to our lives: inspiring an interest in the wide world, a love of the words, playing the game fairly, doing the right thing, or just getting on with it - and just by being the exotic flower from a far off world as our dad saw her in Melbourne long ago.
A Mother’s Love by Gary
How would one express the love of a mother? Unconditional quite often. To bring us forth into the world, to nurture and to watch us grow,in the light of dawn and our days of learning here in the world. To be concerned always with the family and their welfare, often in a selfless manner. I remember Mom’s way of showing her love wasn’t what one would expect or understand always. It was her way, and family was everything to her. When she often would say, “Please call me, and make sure your okay in my teenage years when I was away, I didn’t always think, ‘I’m being selfish.’ The sleepless nights that one has to worry about family that we love, always the welfare of our family, particularly mothers.
Mom during her illness and the times we spent getting her well during the 9 months and her convalescence, her main healing visualization was her family together in a beautiful and a joyful scene of pure bliss of love and light. She had enormous strength and focus to move on and heal and beat the odds against the doctors who said, you can’t. But she did and succeeded anyway. She got on the plane and she flew back to you in America.
We owe a lot to our dear mom. With all her great support and good advice she just got in and did what needed to be done. And she sure helped us a lot. I love you, Mom, and I hope to be reunited in that beautiful garden one day.
Tree Dedication by Bev
Mom’s wishes were to have her ashes scattered amongst her beloved plants, but we thought that planting a memorial tree would be a more fitting and lasting tribute to her legacy, a bridge between life and death. We considered a red bud, Mom’s favorite tree. But it’s small and short lived. It’s also fairly common. We wanted something with longevity and character, like mom. When a friend suggest the variegated beech, something clicked. While doing some research about the tree, I found the following quote, and it made the tree seem perfect.
“This tree has the potential to develop striking red, brown, purple and white colored leaves. The best way to insure that all the colors show up on the tree is not to baby it. This tree needs stress and hardship in order to show its truest and most beautiful colors. If this tree is overfed and given too much care and attention, it will loose the variegation in the leaves, and fade into a single reddish color.
Perhaps this tree can be seen as analogy for a human life. If all we ever did was sit happily sucking up life and water and nourishment that was carefully fed to us each day, never wanting for anything, we would fade into a monochromatic life. Sure, we might be healthy and alive, but until we face hardships, until we over come the insurmountable, take on life’s challenges, and reach for what we need, the world will not see our true colors and beauty in their complete and total rain bow."