As probably all of my readers know, my mum passed away this past Thursday. Here is the speech I performed at her funeral:
Out of all the ways to get out of an exam, this is by far the worst.
My parents were never ones to be overprotective, and would always let us do our own things. With that said, I didn’t use my freedom to go out at night or frolic in the woods alone. I spent every single moment I could with my mum. As cliché as it is, my mum truly was my best friend. Teenage rebellion was never my thing. I could never push away this person I loved more than anything else in the world. There are no words that can properly describe how much I loved my mum.
If you know me, there’s a good chance you associate me with anxiety. I have been anxious since the second I started breathing. As a result, a small part of me was always planning for my absolute worst fear to become a reality, and I have been mentally preparing for this day my whole life. I knew that what people always say is, “I should have spent more time with them. I should have told them I loved them more.” I never wanted to have to say those things. I spent every moment I could with Mum, and I told her I love her so much, I started to worry those words lost their meaning. I don’t regret it at all, but it could have never been enough. My dreams in life were never to become a successful business person or travel to unknown places. The one thing I wanted more than anything else was to spend everyday with my Mummy.
My favourite thing in the world was snuggling with Mum. It was my good mood activity, to make a great day better. It was my bad mood activity, to make a terrible day less awful. And it was for every emotion in between. Mum was able to comfort me in a way that no human or anti anxiety drug will ever be able to match. She knew me better than I knew myself. Throughout my intense struggle with depression, Mum was always my advocate and cheerleader. She knew she could never understand my struggle, but that never stopped her from accepting me as I was, and helping me in any possible way. She gave me the time I needed to recover, and made it her mission to get me on the right medication. She was so proud of me when I returned to school. I couldn’t have done it without her, and I don’t know how I’m going to continue to do it without her. I am going to try my very best though, because those days when I can’t convince myself to do it for me, I’ll do it for her.
Mum was, and will always be, my hero. People often idolize the dead, but Mum was completely aware of my idolization. She was smart, she was brave, she was strong, she was funny, and kind, and so loving. She would tell me that of all the things she is, she’s always my Mummy first, and I couldn’t believe it. How was I so lucky that this intelligent, hard working person, who travelled every chance she got, was a great skier and cyclist, an above-and-beyond employee, a great friend, research and organization wizard, and at one point, a skydiver; how was it that above all that, her top priority was being my mum? Mum once said to me, “I think you’re obsessed with me,” and at the time I was kind of offended by that, but also I could never deny that she was right. In my defense though, how could I not have been? Mum was spunk and chutzpah personified.
Mum never wanted to be like anyone else. She liked what she liked and nobody could change her mind. Her style alone told you perfectly who she was. She loved colours and shapes as vibrant as her personality. She was in love with life and lived it to the fullest. When I was younger, her confidence didn’t only amaze me, but also embarrassed me. She didn’t dress or act like my friends’ mums. As I grew older, this became just another thing I loved about her. If someone didn’t like who she was or how she presented herself, that was their problem. Being my ultimate role model, this attitude rubbed off on me, but never to the same extent. There was one person whose opinion mattered to me more than my own; and that’s Mum. It wasn’t that I needed her approval (although it didn’t hurt), but it’s because I trusted her implicitly.
A lot of Mum’s interests rubbed off on me, and we were able to enjoy them together. Unfortunately, I’m not referring to her athletic side, as I never took to kayaking, biking or hiking, and despite about two decades of experience, the jury’s still out on whether I actually like to ski. Mum was a lover of the arts, and together with her mum (my Bobie), made me fall in love with theatre. I never became the great performer she was, as unfortunately, my singing genes came from my dad, but Mum took me to countless Mirvish and Broadway shows, and we enjoyed almost every second of it (they can’t all be winners). Mum also introduced me to The Muppets, which has since become at least half of my personality. We share the same favourite Muppet movie, the underrated Muppets Most Wanted, which I got to rewatch with her a couple months ago, in my bed, snuggling, singing along to every song. It was so much fun, and it was pretty much everything that I loved combined in one moment.
Mum and I also shared a love of Jeopardy, which when we’d get around to it, Mum insisted we watch the episodes in order, as if there was a continuous plot. Neither of us were anything close to trivia masters, getting only a few questions per episode, but that didn’t stop our enjoyment. Mum also passed on her love of Billy Joel to me. It had always been a dream of mine to see him live with my mum. I got to see him in Chicago earlier this year, and although it was absolutely amazing, I wanted to experience it with Mum, singing all the lyrics we know by heart at the top of our lungs. For Chanukah, she bought us tickets, and I was sure that going with her was going to be the best experience of my life so far.
Now there are so many unknowns and so many things that will never get done. I’m never going to get to read her memoir that was about to be her next project, and I’m convinced, a best seller. She’ll never get to see me graduate university, which is something that she worked as hard as I did for. She’ll never get to finish that quilt that she started sewing 30 years ago and hasn’t looked at in decades, but always said she’d get back to it someday… okay, even if she lived a hundred more years, she was never going to do that. Most of all though, I don’t know what my life will look like without her. Nothing will ever replace her love and guidance.
Mum was my favourite human being on the planet. She was my mummy, my best friend, my confidant, and the only person in the world who truly, truly knew me. I love her more than any words in any language can express. I’ll spend the rest of my life missing her, but more importantly, the rest of my life trying to make her proud.
You can watch the full service here.