I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be doing this.
To prepare for today, to stand in front of you, I had to think through what this is really all about. I know we’re here because our mom died. So we’re here because you love her. Or you love me, or you love Sydney. Or some combination of those. We’re here because our mom, your Kathy, your Kautz is not. We’re here because some of us are working through what life means without her … without her being able to participate in those little life events, like backyard get togethers, a rendezvous at Lazy Dog, checking in on the phone … all of those little life events that weave together to become the afghan blankets of our lives.
Our mom loved those little events and she loved afghan blankets. She hated funerals. She’d hate this.
So, getting ready for today, for me to be up here, I know it is to honor her. I had to think about you, because to honor her up here can only be accomplished by what I say to you. So what do I say? I’ll tell her truth, best I can. I’ll testify to her impact on the world as I saw it. And for that I apologize to her brothers and sisters … her cousin … her nieces and nephews … her granddaughters … her friends because I can’t tell her story the way it needs to be told by you, your memories. Please remember those stories, tell those stories, because that’s how she lives on.
For example, tell them that my mom peddled Vicks Vapor Rub. She loved Vicks. She was like a drug dealer … of Vicks. Tell them she made the most spectacular cheesecake. That she was an expert gift wrapper. Never let them forget that she gave 5-year-old me permission to love Julie McCoy, the Love Boat’s cruise director. Let everyone know that she made the best slop on the shingle with tuna–people talk about ground beef, but that’s not right. It’s tuna. You can also tell them … let’s be honest … my mom became the world’s worst photographer–and then posted the pictures to social media. And tell these stories while you smoke a benson and hedges gold. She’d appreciate that.
But for now, I’ll tell you that my mom did not live her life as much as she endured it. She struggled, she fought, she endured … through violence, through brutality, through poverty. Our mom endured because, as she shared it with me from her earliest memories as a little girl, she was under attack. She knew a darker world that was cruel and unforgiving and unfair. She grew up knowing a world where love and kindness were absent and in their absence she saw and experienced ugly things.
So she learned to be tough, to fight, to be fierce. She took that fight with her into adult life. She would never, ever back down, even when she was out-classed, her opponent too big, too strong to for her to win, she went at it with all she had, physically, emotionally. She fought because despised hypocrites and liars. She fought because she was a single, working mom. She fought for what and who she cared about, because it was right.
Ultimately, she fought because she was a romantic. She knew absolutes and purity intimately. She knew if there could be so much perfect cruelty in the world, then there must be an opposite and complete beauty and kindness and justice. Why do you think she loved Andy Griffith so much? Because Mayberry represented a world that was just and kind and sensible.
And so, when I talk about honoring her and testifying to the impact she had on this world, I tell you she fought because she loved. She knew that if she could fill in the space with love, the brutal couldn’t exist. It is her immense and unconditional love that is her impact, her legacy. She loved me and she loved Sydney …
in that order, by the way. She may have loved Sydney more, but I’m not aware of her going on the record about that, but I think I was her favorite son, and Sydney was her favorite daughter, so we can leave it at that.
It was from her love, that seed she planted in me, that I would know the power and importance of love. It’s how I realized and understood my own worth. It set the stage for how I would be capable of loving others. I love you, Monica. Her love stirs in Chloe and Anastasia. And, I would argue—and I think our Christ has my back on this one—that through love … with love … all the other stuff we do as humans will be alright.
Don’t get me wrong. My mom was no hippy. Some of you may have tangled with her, so you know about this fight thing. But I also hope you know that she was not cruel, she didn’t wish you ill or bad fortune, she just wanted to kick your ass. It was her way to bring balance to the world. No big deal. If it was unfinished, she will haunt you.
Mom, I know that, at least for a little while, we won’t be able to sit around the fire pit, refill your prosecco, and talk politics, but I take some comfort knowing that you’re in good company with the incredible moms and grandmas who went before you, like Sarieh, Otila, Wilma, Beverly, Jingles, and Alice. Please tell them hi and thanks.
Thank you, mom, for everything you did in this world. No more fighting. I love you.