my tribute to Velda at her funeral
My friend Velda's funeral was today. Her son asked me to speak at it, and below are my comments.
My friend Velda was part of a group of women I lovingly called my “Church girls”. We all sat together each Sunday and got to know each other over several years. My “girls” became one of the main reasons I went to Church regularly.
Velda was the oldest of the three Church girls. She was born in 1914. The year she was born was the beginning of World War 1. Woodrow Wilson was president and in May he signed a proclamation for the first Mother's day. Joseph and Rose Kennedy got married. The first stainless steel items were invented. Many important people including Jack LaLanne, Dylan Thomas and Joe Dimaggio were born that year and Velda outlived most of them. My father in law, who is still living, was also born this year. The cost of a stamp was 2 cents. Edger Rice Burroughs published Tarzan of the Apes. Velda's long life spanned many other events including the great depression, another world war, at least 17 more presidents and many important inventions that probably contributed to her longevity.
I don't remember how I began sitting in the second to the last row next to my church girls but it was my good fortune to do so. Usually Thelma sat next to me, then Velda, then Mary Alice. At first we didn't talk much but then we just started chatting. They made me feel so welcome and their optimism and great sense of humor always made me feel good no matter what was going on in my life. One day I happened to ask if they would all like to go out to lunch some Saturday and they all agreed – but not before looking at each other quizically as if to say, “Why would she want to go out with us old ladies?” They thought it was funny that I called them “girls”.
We started going out to lunch occasionally. We talked about many things – but mostly their growing up years, how they missed their husbands, travels, grown children, grandchildren, how hard it was to buy a bathing suit when you got old and how Thelma and Velda always laughed at themselves when they went to water aerobics. Some things that we talked about I will keep secret. One year, I invited them all to my neighbor's 99th birthday. It was great because Velda actually could talk to some one who was older than she was – we planned to get together for his 100th but he died about 6 months after his party.
We all supported each other when Thelma became ill. Velda and I went to see her just a few days before she died and Velda helped me to see that death wasn't always the worse thing that could happen to a person. When my own father was dying, Velda told me “You go back there and just deal with whatever it is that happens. That's what you have to do!”. It was good advice and she,who already had lost her own husband, parents and siblings as well as most of her friends, was wise enough to know that death is a part of life and we have to go on living. She was there to offer her support when my own mother died – she and Mary Alice were like mothers to me and made that loss easier to bear.
Velda was one of the most independent women I have ever known, right up until the end. Although she was 97 years old and while parts of her didn't work so well, her mind was sharp. When she was still coming to church she would refuse my offers of walking her back to her car. She didn't want to bring her walker to church because I think to her that was too much of a sign of being an invalid. She would, however insist on walking up to communion and would take my arm. She and Thelma used to get back to the Pew after making it up to the alter and back and high five each other “Whew, we made it!” they would triumphantly say.
I never once heard Velda complain about anything – even when she had cancer on her scalp. She just wore hats. She was always dressed perfectly with matching scarfs and nice suits. I guess if you could call it a complaint, she did once say that she sure wished she could wear cute shoes. But she was wisely aware of the dangers of falling and sacrificed style for common sense.
Velda called me from time to time. Sometimes she would just call and say “I think about you every day and I love you”. This meant so much to me. She also called me when she heard I broke my leg. She felt bad I would not be able to run for a while. She was always interested in my running and for each marathon she chose mile 17. It was a good year for her, she said.
Mary Alice and I visited her last just before Christmas. We had a good time talking about the good old days РI wish I had recorded these conversations. I was content to just sit and listen РI was and am amazed at the memories and am glad she had them till the end I am sure all memories weren't good but she only dwelled on the good ones. When we visited, I often would bring one bottle of beer which we would share Рlike me, she liked dark beer. For this last visit, I brought some Baileys Irish cr̬me to put in our coffee and we also ate red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.
Mary Alice and I planned to visit her the week after her birthday but that was not to be as she went into the hospital the night before. While I was saddened by her death, I was glad for her long life and for knowing her. She added more than she will ever know and gave me so much and I am grateful for her friendship. We loved her a lot and her friendship was a treasure.
I know that Velda loved her sons and their families and felt well cared for and loved by them. She talked about how family got together each Sunday and how she babysat one of her great grandchildren once per week. She proudly showed us a book that her grandson's wife had written and gave us copies to put in the church library. She felt honored to attend one of her grandchildren's wedding back East and described how loving and helpful everyone was and she was never made to feel like a burden. She loved to travel but I think she knew that might be her last trip.
I feel so honored to have had friends who have lived through so much and so long with such grace and dignity and no complaints. I think Velda's family had a lot to do with her longevity and her good life...she felt loved and connected and included. I am grateful to my dad, who when I was a little girl taught me to respect the elderly and appreciate their stories and their wisdom. My dad often took me visiting with him as he visited the elderly Finnish people that were friends of his parents. The only downside I can see in having elderly friends is that they often die too soon it seems, but what they teach you about living more than makes up for it.
One of the gifts I got from my Church girls is the knowledge that inside we are still boys and girls, despite how worn out our outsides are. We all never lose the need to feel like we matter and we all have stories to tell if someone takes the time to listen.
To honor Velda's memory, we all can seek out our elderly friends, family and neighbors and realize what they have to give us – and just listen. I am reminded of a song by John Prine, one of my favorite folk singers. The song is called “Hello in there”. If I could sing it I would – I noticed that Velda and I often just mouthed the words to hymns sometimes – neither of us thinking highly of our musical talents. Mary Alice was always the good singer in our pew.
The song goes like this:
Ya know that old trees just grow stronger.
And old rivers grow wilder every day.
Old people just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say,
Hello in there, Hello
So if you're walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes.
Please don't just pass em by and stare
As if you didn't care
Say “Hello in there”
Hello
Goodbye my sweet friend Velda. I hope you get some red velvet cake and some dark beer – and mile 17 is always and forever yours. You were loved and gave us all so much more than you know. May God hold you in the palm of his hands.
My friend Velda was part of a group of women I lovingly called my “Church girls”. We all sat together each Sunday and got to know each other over several years. My “girls” became one of the main reasons I went to Church regularly.
Velda was the oldest of the three Church girls. She was born in 1914. The year she was born was the beginning of World War 1. Woodrow Wilson was president and in May he signed a proclamation for the first Mother's day. Joseph and Rose Kennedy got married. The first stainless steel items were invented. Many important people including Jack LaLanne, Dylan Thomas and Joe Dimaggio were born that year and Velda outlived most of them. My father in law, who is still living, was also born this year. The cost of a stamp was 2 cents. Edger Rice Burroughs published Tarzan of the Apes. Velda's long life spanned many other events including the great depression, another world war, at least 17 more presidents and many important inventions that probably contributed to her longevity.
I don't remember how I began sitting in the second to the last row next to my church girls but it was my good fortune to do so. Usually Thelma sat next to me, then Velda, then Mary Alice. At first we didn't talk much but then we just started chatting. They made me feel so welcome and their optimism and great sense of humor always made me feel good no matter what was going on in my life. One day I happened to ask if they would all like to go out to lunch some Saturday and they all agreed – but not before looking at each other quizically as if to say, “Why would she want to go out with us old ladies?” They thought it was funny that I called them “girls”.
We started going out to lunch occasionally. We talked about many things – but mostly their growing up years, how they missed their husbands, travels, grown children, grandchildren, how hard it was to buy a bathing suit when you got old and how Thelma and Velda always laughed at themselves when they went to water aerobics. Some things that we talked about I will keep secret. One year, I invited them all to my neighbor's 99th birthday. It was great because Velda actually could talk to some one who was older than she was – we planned to get together for his 100th but he died about 6 months after his party.
We all supported each other when Thelma became ill. Velda and I went to see her just a few days before she died and Velda helped me to see that death wasn't always the worse thing that could happen to a person. When my own father was dying, Velda told me “You go back there and just deal with whatever it is that happens. That's what you have to do!”. It was good advice and she,who already had lost her own husband, parents and siblings as well as most of her friends, was wise enough to know that death is a part of life and we have to go on living. She was there to offer her support when my own mother died – she and Mary Alice were like mothers to me and made that loss easier to bear.
Velda was one of the most independent women I have ever known, right up until the end. Although she was 97 years old and while parts of her didn't work so well, her mind was sharp. When she was still coming to church she would refuse my offers of walking her back to her car. She didn't want to bring her walker to church because I think to her that was too much of a sign of being an invalid. She would, however insist on walking up to communion and would take my arm. She and Thelma used to get back to the Pew after making it up to the alter and back and high five each other “Whew, we made it!” they would triumphantly say.
I never once heard Velda complain about anything – even when she had cancer on her scalp. She just wore hats. She was always dressed perfectly with matching scarfs and nice suits. I guess if you could call it a complaint, she did once say that she sure wished she could wear cute shoes. But she was wisely aware of the dangers of falling and sacrificed style for common sense.
Velda called me from time to time. Sometimes she would just call and say “I think about you every day and I love you”. This meant so much to me. She also called me when she heard I broke my leg. She felt bad I would not be able to run for a while. She was always interested in my running and for each marathon she chose mile 17. It was a good year for her, she said.
Mary Alice and I visited her last just before Christmas. We had a good time talking about the good old days РI wish I had recorded these conversations. I was content to just sit and listen РI was and am amazed at the memories and am glad she had them till the end I am sure all memories weren't good but she only dwelled on the good ones. When we visited, I often would bring one bottle of beer which we would share Рlike me, she liked dark beer. For this last visit, I brought some Baileys Irish cr̬me to put in our coffee and we also ate red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.
Mary Alice and I planned to visit her the week after her birthday but that was not to be as she went into the hospital the night before. While I was saddened by her death, I was glad for her long life and for knowing her. She added more than she will ever know and gave me so much and I am grateful for her friendship. We loved her a lot and her friendship was a treasure.
I know that Velda loved her sons and their families and felt well cared for and loved by them. She talked about how family got together each Sunday and how she babysat one of her great grandchildren once per week. She proudly showed us a book that her grandson's wife had written and gave us copies to put in the church library. She felt honored to attend one of her grandchildren's wedding back East and described how loving and helpful everyone was and she was never made to feel like a burden. She loved to travel but I think she knew that might be her last trip.
I feel so honored to have had friends who have lived through so much and so long with such grace and dignity and no complaints. I think Velda's family had a lot to do with her longevity and her good life...she felt loved and connected and included. I am grateful to my dad, who when I was a little girl taught me to respect the elderly and appreciate their stories and their wisdom. My dad often took me visiting with him as he visited the elderly Finnish people that were friends of his parents. The only downside I can see in having elderly friends is that they often die too soon it seems, but what they teach you about living more than makes up for it.
One of the gifts I got from my Church girls is the knowledge that inside we are still boys and girls, despite how worn out our outsides are. We all never lose the need to feel like we matter and we all have stories to tell if someone takes the time to listen.
To honor Velda's memory, we all can seek out our elderly friends, family and neighbors and realize what they have to give us – and just listen. I am reminded of a song by John Prine, one of my favorite folk singers. The song is called “Hello in there”. If I could sing it I would – I noticed that Velda and I often just mouthed the words to hymns sometimes – neither of us thinking highly of our musical talents. Mary Alice was always the good singer in our pew.
The song goes like this:
Ya know that old trees just grow stronger.
And old rivers grow wilder every day.
Old people just grow lonesome
Waiting for someone to say,
Hello in there, Hello
So if you're walking down the street sometime
And spot some hollow ancient eyes.
Please don't just pass em by and stare
As if you didn't care
Say “Hello in there”
Hello
Goodbye my sweet friend Velda. I hope you get some red velvet cake and some dark beer – and mile 17 is always and forever yours. You were loved and gave us all so much more than you know. May God hold you in the palm of his hands.
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