Chapter 11
Eulogy
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    At the funeral mass, the celebrant slowly walks down the center aisle of the church and sprinkles Holy Water.  As he passes each pew, all bow and make the sign of the Cross, yet another tradition that returned with the formation of The Restoration.
     Field Marshal Leonard Earnshaw is seated beside the alter boys, his eyes fixed on his beloved mother in her gun metal gray coffin.  Even in death, her face still bears the twisted anguish so unkindly administered by years of pain and suffering.  Her thin white hair is parted at the side, just as it was for all of her life.  She is dressed in a dark blue suit with a white handkerchief in her left pocket and has a white scarf around her neck.  In the past few years, she was always so conscious of the loose skin around her neck brought on by the substantial weight loss and always insisted on wearing something to cover it.
    Leonard is in uniform and no longer dresses as a priest since he was given the assignment of traveling throughout the country assisting local parishes in setting up their organization in accordance with the traditional laws of The Restoration.  He now considers himself a soldier of The Church who just happens to be a priest.  He doesn't hear the scripture readings as his thoughts reach back to times when he wishes to remember his mother but cannot cast aside the images of her confined to her bed with half-open eyes and the sound of resent, and sometimes even hate, in her voice.  Suffering does that - especially to those who do not deserve such an unkind fate.
    The lector completes the 2nd scripture reading, and Leonard remains in his seat for a moment.  Every eye in the church is fixed on him as he continues to stare at his mother's coffin and try to  force away the tears.  Finally, he stands, faces the Crucifix, makes the sign of the Cross and moves to the lectrum.  His eulogy required little preparation, as when his mother's health continued to decline, his theme for her eulogy began to form in his mind for many months.  As a priest, he always felt a weeping eulogist added an unnecessary dreariness to a funeral mass and never thought when he found himself speaking of someone he loved, he would experience the loss of composure he now feels.  In a soft and gentle voice, he begins, "Many times, a eulogist will say I knew this person all my life and go on to paint something of a false portrait, only mentioning the good times and those things that might bring a measure of solace to a time of grief.  My mother would not want me to do that. At one point, my mother's life made something of a harsh turn from what was once happiness to denial in the heartbreak of divorce.  Almost overnight, much of what was dear to her was swept away as if taken by a thief, sending her into years of emptiness and a reclusive world of bitterness, constantly asking what....what did I do to deserve this?  Gradually, she lost touch with everyone and everything from her former life, and there are no such people to speak of her.  So what can I say about my mother?"
    "Often, a eulogist will say I worked with this person for many years and go on to mention how he or she was responsible for a number of innovative ideas that contributed to that terribly over-used cliché' - the bottom line.  My mother always found herself in the home raising her children, always thinking of them before herself.  Although she had the means, she never felt it necessary to hire someone to look after such menial tasks while she pursued some career goal or worldly need.  When her children began to pursue their own career goals; then came the divorce, and she slipped further and further into a world of isolation.  Then, there are no such people to speak of her, so what can I say about my mother?"
    "Sharing the happy times in a person's life comes quite easily, demands little responsibility and spares us worry and any hurt from knowing, or even suspecting, someone's life, as he or she would have it, is gradually slipping away.  When someone is not prone to complain, such a phenomenon can go unseen for quite a long time and often result when a kind and thoughtful person does not wish to burden someone else with what they feel must be endured alone.  I really can't say how long she remained in this distant and lonely existence before her illness began to draw her further and further into a world of solitude, then condemning her to physical pain as well as the despair from a lost happiness.  You see, I was pursuing my own career goals.  You could say, as far as what she had once hoped for the future, she was penniless, much the same as a homeless person you would pass on the street.  What do you do when you see the homeless - give them the 2 or 3 dollars they ask or turn you head, feeling you did nothing to place them in despair and have no obligation to even listen to them?  Such a nameless person we may see only once in our lifetime but that can tell us so much about ourselves.  What then should we do when a love one, although in a different respect, is just as much in need?  Should we turn our heads, put them in a nursing home to get them out of sight, all the while telling ourselves it is what is best for them and perhaps never realizing we are all the while thinking of what is best for ourselves, leaving them to stand alone, the same as a penniless person on the street."
    "Think of it.  You may well know someone who is sick or in some form of need.  Just for a moment, ask yourself how you would feel, if you were that person.  I did that towards the end of my mother's life and was constantly asking myself how I would feel and what I would want for myself, if I were my mother.  Only then did I realize I should have asked that question, and many others, years ago before waiting until I knew what she had wanted for all those years was now beyond my reach.  When a person is sick or has been victimized by this life in such a cruel manner, much of what they want for themselves costs nothing - not even the $2 a homeless person will want for a meager meal.  They only want a moment of kindness, some expression of concern and love - a gentle touch, a few kind and loving words that many times escape our hearts and find us, perhaps without realizing it, seeking out ways to convince ourselves we have done all we should."
    "Now, my mother is gone and what she wanted for herself is so vivid in my mind.  In the life that surely must exist beyond this world, I hope she can know of my thoughts at this very moment and be consoled in knowing I finally realized much of what she wanted for herself was only to know her sons were happy.  She always placed us before anything she wanted for herself and extended the loving kindness that remained so much an unrealized blessing until it was far too late.  Still, she must have had the solace in knowing she was always unselfish and caring, and I pray she knows she will remain in the hearts of her sons forever.  And this is what I can say about my mother."
    He walks to the coffin, looks down on her withered face and kisses her cheek.