The Eulogy I Never Gave

When Nana passed away in 2019 I wrote out a eulogy, knowing I would never get up and read it. So I posted it on the funeral home's website. Part of me wishes I had gotten up and said something, but at the time, it was not worth the anxiety attack. But here it is:

I'd like to say that I'm going to make this brief but that's just not gonna happen. Ninety seven years deserves a bit more than just a paragraph. So here goes. Irma was, like all of us, a complex and unique individual. She was real and flawed but at her core Irma was a good person. She was funny without realising it, was endlessly proud of her three sons, Tom, Alan, and Roy, she was kind and caring, and most significantly there are few people who doled out over-the-top and original compliments as often as Irma. (When she first met my niece Sydney when Syd was eight she gasped and said, "You have thee most beautiful eyebrows!" More recently she looked at a photo of my mother from the 90s and exclaimed, "Rose, you look like a movie star!") No one got away from Irma without a compliment and a huge ego boost. 

She absolutely adored children - especially those with red hair and was extremely lucky to have Lauren, Emily, and Peter as grandchildren. Oh and she made it known to one and all her disappointment when Emily had the audacity to dye her hair black as a teenager. 

Irma was accepting and open minded - a quality that is usually quite atypical of her peers - she moved with the times. She had a wonderful ear for music and I was particularly delighted when she fell in love with the Godfather of Punk, Iggy Pop's version of "We Have All the Time in The World". Few people in their 90s were as cool as Irma.

Irma's interests were vast but I most remember her love and appreciation of films such as "Gone with the Wind" (her first movie date in 1939 with future husband, Tom), "The Firm", "Midnight Run", "Now, Voyager", "Three Days of the Condor", "Shall We Dance", "The Catered Affair", and "Mad Love". Along with her interest in films came an admiration for current Hollywood's male leads, her favourites being Skeet Ulrich, Chris O'Donnell, Brad Pitt, Ryan Gosling, and Benicio del Toro.

Aside from music and movies, Irma, in the early years of my life with her, played tennis and bridge, as well as enjoyed traveling to places such as California, England, Italy, and Jamaica. She had a keen eye for antiques and no matter where she lived, her homes reflected her gift for interior design. Irma also had a fabulous fashion sense and dressed impeccably from head to heels well into her 90s. As my friend Michael said of her effortless elegance after meeting her for the first time, "My God, she's like a Kennedy!" 

Irma's photography skills were legendary in our family, often taking snapshots of people with their heads mostly out of frame, random tables at fancy restaurants, or everyone's favourite - shots of just body parts, like Baby Christopher's chubby knees. Just his knees. Equally charming were her comments in photo albums beside the pictures. The ones that stand out for me are of her son, Roy, in the 1980s decked out in a tux. Beside it said: "Best Man - gorgeous!", then the little wallet size photo of Irma and her sister Merc in Center City clutching several packages, that read "1944 - Wartime but still shopping". Another was a series of several photos of the store bought "Welcome Home Alan" sign that hung on the house on Burton Road. Why she felt the need to take so many photos of the sign, rather than pictures of Alan (just back from Vietnam) with his friends and family perplexed me. I asked her about the series of pictures of just the banner and she said, "Oh yes! That sign cost ten dollars." Sometimes her not making sense was the funniest thing about her. However, she redeemed herself by then gushing at how sweet Alan was to go into town and have professional photos taken of him in his Green Beret uniform. The photo was always proudly displayed in all of her homes.

Irma did not have a terrific childhood, and I remember her talking about her mother-in-law, Esther, and how fond she was of her because Esther was the sort of mother that Irma had always wanted but sadly never had while growing up. Esther was a caring woman and Irma's admiration and loyalty to Esther was never clearer for me than the time I spent an afternoon with her and my grandfather when I was about 15 or 16. We had ordered pizza and Nana Irma said, "You know, my mother in law made such good pizza." Grandpop swatted her comment aside and said "Ehhh, her pizza wasn't that great. You exaggerate about her cooking." Mildly enraged and completely affronted she shouted, "Your mother could make B.M. taste good!!!" Gross.

Irma also gave solid life advice, like the time when she went to pick up Lauren from grade school and saw her kneeling in front of friends, one of whom was a male classmate. Once inside the car, Nana chastised her, saying, "Never kneel in front of someone unless they're a statue!"

Irma was an integral part of my extended family, my mother's side of the family as well as my parents' friends and their children. One of my favourite Nana moments was when my BFF Amy graduated from the University of Richmond; Irma mailed her a card congratulating her on her achievement and enclosed a five dollar bill.

Living in New Jersey in her later years allowed Irma to see a lot of her youngest great-grandchildren, Jackson, Ana, Adam, and Lucy and to become an even more important part in my life as well as Emily's. I know I speak for both of us when I say how lucky we were to have become so close with Nana in these last few years.

In closing, I suppose that the picture I want everyone to have of Irma is a realistic one, not a make-believe sort that paints her as perfect or a saint, because that does her a great disservice. Irma was gutsy, loving, she made mistakes and voiced her regrets, but she was that rare creature who recognised her short-comings and grew from them, not with them. That is a person to love and respect.