It happened. You left this World. The hole your passing left is larger than I thought it would be. Still feels surreal, being in this World without a Mom.
Here’s your eulogy, it came effortlessly and I was honored to write it. I love you, Mom💔
Hi everyone, thank you for being here to celebrate Gertrud. I could think of nothing my Mom would enjoy more, than to be the reason friends and family gather. The Mass today was chosen by Gertrud years ago and I hope that within the readings and Gospel, you find comfort and inspiration, as I know my Mom intended.
Gertrud was born and raised in Germany during a time most of us only read about in history books. She held those experiences close and private, shared with my Dad, Henry, and with her sisterhood of what my Dad called “The German Gals.” Though the experiences were held private, the lessons of Faith and resiliency were evident in the way Gertrud lived her life.
Getrud was a devoted wife to her husband Henry, who was equally devoted and dedicated to Gertrud.The time they spent together, spanning nearly 8 decades and countless honey-do lists, is a testament to their love for one another. From their beginnings in worn-torn Germany, to their final chapter at the memory care unit at Turning Brook, Gertrud and Henry’s marriage is the epitome of “for better or worse, until death do us part.”
Gertrud and Henry raised two children and it was Gertrud who always found ways to soften her kids’ missteps. As long as that list of our shenanigans was, she never held it against us. She wrote in a picture book she made for me “Those were rough years, but things got better, as I knew they would.” Thanks for not disowning either of us, Mom.
No eulogy for Gertrud would be complete without paying homage to her favorite role, that of Oma to her beloved grandchildren and great grandchildren. Of all the things Oma did for them, from cards and gifts, cookies and scrapbooks, it was the attention she paid and the care she showed that resonated most. It’s cliche but true, her legacy is how she made them feel.
There is no finer example of a servant of God than Gertrud. If you were lucky enough to have crossed her path, she would pray for you. She would have definitely hugged you and shared a laugh. If she saw you were struggling, she would have sent you a card. If you had a need or a wound, she would tend to it, not because she was a martyr, but because she was as compassionate as they come. Her first born grandchild, Brett, said it best: She was tender and kind. In fact, Gertrud embodied all of 1 Corinthians 4-7: Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
My Mom loved her family and friends, a good meal and a good glass of wine. To conclude her eulogy, I’d like to invite each of us to honor her memory by spending some extra time when sharing a meal with those we love and to be kinder and more compassionate with ourselves and others. In doing these things, her spirit can continue to live on, resonating in our hearts and mirrored in our actions, until our own time on Earth is done.
You can rest easy now, Mom. Job well done.
The Beech House 