On March 11, 2023, my mom Sarah Jane Henderson left this earthly plane, after a 2 year journey through vascular dementia, following a life full of challenge and illness and also love and joy and adventure.
Caring for her health and finances and overall well being for these past few years has been all encompassing for me, eclipsing to a large extent the relationship and memories we shared before her diagnosis. Now that this particular journey is at an end I am feeling a little lost, not sure how to define myself without my mom to take care of. Not sure who I am without any parents on this earth any more. Not yet ready to be this much of a grown up. I have a lot to process and have not yet really begun to do so, with the busyness of planning her memorial, then having Covid, then going on a spring break trip because our busy lives do march on.
I will be back with more reflections on my mom, on what her life and death mean to me, when I'm ready to process it more. For now, here are the remarks I gave at her memorial on March 18th. Just a tiny taste of who she was in the world, and who she was to me.
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Thank you all for being here today. It’s wonderful to see so many people who have cared about my mom, in all her many roles. She made an impact in everything she did, with her energy, her sense of humour and her caring heart.I’m so deeply proud of her accomplishments in her other roles- but the oneI can speak to best was “mom.” I want to share just a taste of what it was like growing up with the inimitable Sarah Henderson as my mother.
My mom was pretty much my world for as long as I could remember. She and my dad divorced when I was 4 and with the exception of some shared family vacations it was pretty much mom and I against the world until I was 9. Early memories include coming home from school and snuggling into the big orange recliner to read. Walking to the library through the woods behind our condominium complex and playing 3 billy goats gruff on the little bridge. Baking cookies and making crafts- she was so creative and energetic. More than one year for Christmas we made homemade ornaments for the whole extended family. She always had a balanced and home cooked dinner for us-- thanks crock pot- and to this day her Johnny Marzetti is one of my favorite foods. Not steamed brussel sprouts though… She would serve those ALLL the time when I was little, and say every time “eat them up! They have more vitamin C than orange juice!” Then one day when I was a teenager she asked me if I liked Brussel sprouts -- “not really mom” and she said “me either” and we never ate them again…
Other things she always said… “Marry a rich man” and “never go anywhere empty handed”. The second one at least I took to heart :) and my family will vouch for me saying it to them all the time too. My mom loved to shop for clothes and always took me with her. When I was little I would pretend the clothing racks were little houses and go off and play. When I got older she would always ask my opinion on decisions between two items- and then invariably choose the one that I didn’t pick. The woman always knew her own mind! In the same vien- when we went out to eat she always encouraged me to order dessert- but never ordered her own because she was always so careful to manage her diabetes..then she’d ask if she could have a bite of mine… and invariably would have at least half of it. :)
But in exchange for disparaging my opinions and stealing my dessert… she gave me so much. Not just all of that devotion and care and creativity when I was young… but also sharing her interests and passions with me and always encouraging me in my own. She loved to travel and her adventures, from visiting Brazil to trekking to the Rockies, inspired me to do the same. She taught me to ski, with the patience of a saint as it took may years before I’d do it without protest. She loved turn of the century architecture and period piece movies and we would go to open houses together just to exclaim over the butler’s pantry and back staircase. We were always driving across town to University Circle to visit the art museum and history museum and severance hall. She played the soundtracks to musicals all the time and I knew all the lyrics to Cabaret before I knew what any of them meant…. She supported my love of music and acting by driving me to rehearsals and performances, and she never missed a chance to hear me sing. She was an avid reader and loved language and encouraged me to read incessantly and to write and play with words. She drove me to Kalamazoo so I could get to know my henderson family, and Strasburg to visit my dads’ family even after they were divorced-- and in doing so taught me that family is vital- and can be defined by more than blood.
And even though I said all my life I’d never be a teacher… all those days helping her with bulletin boards, and hearing her talk passionately about the medival feast and countless other projects with her students… apparently it all sunk in.
I am who I am today because of who she was and the way she shared herself with me- and I am so grateful. I am grateful too for the way we became real friends once I was an adult, for all the happy hours… and theater performances and film festivals and road trips…for so many conversations together, her listening to me babble about college and grad school and performing, and later my experiences of marriage and motherhood… for the chance to thank her for all she gave me. I hope I told her enough.
1 comment:
You're in my heart, Amanda. Sending so much love and an endless supply of hugs.
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