My Eulogy From the Eyes of My Son

The Eulogy of Melanie Remington

I always heard my mom say as we would get ready to go anywhere, "We are off like a thundering herd of turtles!" It was a saying she got from her mother. I remember as a child it would take more time to pile all of us kids in the car than it did to drive to our destination many times. She was born June 17th 1981. And considering how long she lived, off to heaven like a little turtle she went.

In her life she became a runner and she would say, "whenever you reach a climb, give it everything." At times I came to her and asked her how I would make it through points in my life and she would say, "Don't worry. When you reach the climb, just give it all you got." She said that moving from glory to glory was not easy; it was like climbing one mountain after the other. It's not about when you get there, but how. This was the way she lead her life.

I know she was a single mom when she had me, and she would tell me not for one minute did she regret it. I watch home videos of when it was just her and I, and I can see the love all over her face. She said she wanted me from the very beginning and I was never a mistake but destined to be exactly who I was. She said to me my whole life I was her "Dream come true." She went on to get married to my dad and had a litter of brothers and sisters for me to play with. These people have become my life long friends and share with me in the love I have for our mother. My name is Josiah Asher Remington; I was my mama's first born.

Before I go on, I want to back up. I know my mom left an impression in this world long before even I can remember. I want to tell you stories that her father, my Papa, once told me. First, he would tell me how much she loved me, which was comforting in my early days when my mom only told me twice in a day instead of fifty. But even when my mama was away for awhile, Papa said that I was God's precious remembrance of her to everyone else. He said I have my mama's strong spirit and the very same twinkle in my eye when I laughed deep from the gut. I always liked my mama's laugh, especially her smile when she did, so I took that as high praise. I guess that's what people mean when they say that someone is "survived by" their children. I'd like to think, even as she waits for me in the next glorious life, that parts of her are still surviving here on earth through me, and through my brothers and sisters.

My Papa also giggled about how shocked he was when she was born. He told me he already had two boys, my uncles, and was expecting another. But, when he heard it was a girl, he was so surprised. He said my mom was always full of surprises, as I learned for myself growing up. He said she was a surprise from the very beginning even right down to when he and my grandma found out they were having another baby. My grandparents thought about names for this new baby girl and narrowed it down to Melissa and Melanie. I can still hear my Papa say, "We decided on Melanie Kristine and the good times started."

My grandma tells of how full of life she was too, another thing that I learned quickly for myself and like to think I got from her. My Grammy would tell of how she would dance and dance around and around the house as a little girl in her pink tu-tu. But I hear stories of how in this very same pink tu-tu she skinned her knees climbing trees and beating up neighborhood boys. Speaking of the pink tu-tu, she also loved pink! Grammy told me how she wanted pink carpet in her room in the house she grew up in. And they let her have it. Her love of pink clearly never went away. It went straight from her childhood into mine. This love of pink was something I did not always appreciate, especially when it showed up in house decorations while I was in high school. My friends would sometimes tease me a little about it. But, there was a comfort in those pink curtains in the kitchen and towels in the bathroom. It's hard to admit, standing here as a grown man, I missed it a little when I moved away for college. Or, maybe it wasn't only the pink curtains I missed, but her hugs and kisses too.

Well, anyhow, her warmth in decorations I feel showed the instinctual maternal side she had. I hear this started long before I was born. It seemed to have cropped up about the time her youngest brother was born. My uncle Tim tells of how she was his second mother, and this included bossing and correcting him. With this he also knew no one would ever mess with him, because they would have to deal with his big sis; although, she was not the big sis for long. By the time all three of my uncles hit 6'2" she was the "Squirt" of the family as Papa would call her. And all her sons, myself included, never let the tradition die, except we called her "Shrimp" instead of squirt. Although, the real shrimp was GiGi, my great grandmother; she was 5' with her hair 4 inches high, and this was on a good day. GiGi would tell me how the entire time my mom was pregnant with me they would play cards everyday. When I asked her one time what she thought of my mom she said short and simply, "She loves people, she loves nature, she loves life, and she happy." She was happy.

It's hard to think now that she is not here. Letting go is really hard, especially when you expected someone would live forever as she always said she would. I sat in her house the other day, in her favorite chair and I could still smell her. It was the same scent I remember when I held onto her legs when I got scarred as a little boy. It was the same scent I remember when she rocked me to sleep in the rocking chair or when she forced hugs on me as I tried to run away as teenager. The same scent when we dance together on my wedding day. I just closed my eyes and pretended she was there. And as I opened them, it was though it had faded in a fleeting moment. I wonder if it lingered as long as it did as a merciful gift to help me let go.

You know, my mom became a lawyer and studied languages, she never stopped learning. She had so many passions. But the lasting imprint she left was not with her academic achievements, it was in her convictions. She lived according to the way she believed. She knew when to fight and when to throw in the towel. She knew when I needed my backside warmed, and when playing with my cars in the dog's water really wasn't that big of a deal. Life will not be the same. I will miss her everyday. But, I trust God knows His timing.

We are all here today, each touched by this woman's life in a unique way. Anyone who knew my mom knew that she had the extraordinary ability to crack herself up. So, instead of tears, I know she would want to see all our smiles as we remember her, and to even laugh, as she did so much. Everyone that she touched I know will miss her, especially my dad who loved her strong and hard. He says they were born for each other. And us kids whom she dedicated her life to. Make no mistake, I was not the last one my mother loved, nor did she love me the most of my siblings. But I was the first one she loved.

I remember my mom through these stories and I realize my mom is not gone. She is here in this place, alive in our stories and memories. And I know we will see her again in the next life to come. But, until then I hope my mom enjoys her new wings. She earned them. And though this loss is hard on all of us and things sometimes feel a little crazy, it was in times like this my lead-footed mama would only have one thing to say, "Take a breath and hold on."