This week we passed the three month mark of losing our sweet and wise and lovely Mama Maines.  She is still my first waking thought every day and missing her is last emotion I experience each night before I sleep.   We know many of you are continuing to feel her loss so deeply too. These were my words about her at her memorial service.  I am reminding myself of all she taught me.

For those of you who may not know me, I’m Randi Maines Walters—Ron and Carole’s daughter.  On behalf of our whole family, thank you all so much for coming today to honor the life of Mama Maines. While she gave physical birth to the three of us and was a beloved grandma to nine lovely others here today, she loved and nurtured, taught and led so many more of you.

The past several weeks have been some of the saddest times I have ever experienced, but I know many of you are hurting because of her loss too.  There is great comfort in being together to remember who she was to us and to continue to learn from her 

Amidst the deep, dark waves of grief that keep rolling in, reminding me that she is no longer physically here, I also feel gratitude. That gratitude, which many of you also feel, comes from experiencing her unconditional love and unmatched wisdom. While cancer took my mother’s life, it will never take away her love or the lessons she taught me. I want to share a few of the most salient ones with you now.

 

Have fun, seek adventure, and never lose your sense of humor

My mom took her “responsible parent” duties very seriously, but she was equally “the fun” mom.  I never went through a phase in my life – including adolescence - when I didn’t want to be with her as much as I could. She was consistently delightful. She lit up every room with sparkle and light. Ours was the house to come to growing up because she made everyone feel at ease. It didn’t matter if we brought 3 or 30 people over. She cooked and laughed and listened and made it feel warm and safe to be there. If you spent much time with her at all, she became your Mama Maines too. When I brought Kirk home for the first time, she rolled out the red carpet in her usual style with Lakers and Disneyland tickets. Given Kirk’s well-documented, sheltered Arkansas upbringing, it was especially impressive to him. Their adult friendship and respect for one another grew from that day and never waned. He knows—and I thank him for knowing—why I’ve loved her so deeply and fiercely through the twenty seven years that he has been a part of the family.  

 

Friends from her younger years saw an adventuresome spirit. She was a high school cheerleader, but perhaps as a surprise to some of you, also a bit of a party girl. Just two weeks ago, she admitted to her granddaughters who are attending the University of Maryland that she once partied there—campus was not  a short drive for that Pennsylvania Preacher’s kid. It makes me smile to think of how she might have pulled that off. It also makes me smile to see several dear friends who traveled here today from Maryland and who have also pulled off a party or two.

My dad will tell you more about who she was in college, but she drew him and others at JBU effortlessly. After she married my dad, he was soon deployed to Vietnam. She parented Jodie alone for the year he was away. Though she deeply missed him, she mothered how she approached everything else in life: with spunk and tenacity. A few years later, they decided to take their two babies to, what my mom called, “the ends of the earth.” There in Indonesia, they became fast friends with Mark and Judy Nord. This friendship continued when both families found themselves in Redlands, California a decade later. Mark and Judy came all the way from Oregon to be with us today. It’s quite likely that Mark declined a rock climbing trip to be here. I have vivid memories of all kinds of ambitious projects that my mom and Judy tackled joyfully. I am telling you that these two make the current day “Do-It-Your-Selfers” seem quaint. Their reality show would have been picked up by HGN for sure. Take the time my mom decided that it would be cool to have a hot tub. She and Judy proceeded to dig a six-foot by six-foot hole opening together when their pilot husbands were away. Or the time that Judy decided she needed new upholstery in her car. The two of them found the material they needed and took care of that in a weekend. They rehabbed houses, laid tile. They just figured stuff out and had fun doing it. I can’t remember a time when they weren’t laughing while getting more done in one day than the rest of us could do in a week. In reflecting with me on her life these past few weeks, my mom said many of her happiest memories have Mark and Judy in them.  

 

My mom loved to travel. But her sense of adventure also included a sense of purpose for serving others. Take the time she spent a summer in China teaching English as a Second Language. Even though Jodie and I were still in high school and Mark was still a little guy, she headed off because it was important to her. She and my Dad served together abroad, but she also had her own life and purpose. This made an impression on me that remains.

Throughout and beyond these adventures, my mom taught me to always have a sense of humor. Even in these recent, difficult weeks, she kept it and even retold the Indonesian hot tub installation I mentioned earlier. Thankfully, this sense of humor has also been passed on to her grandkids.  Yes, my mom was every bit the wise professor, but she also encouraged bawdy humor among us and laughed easily and often.

Be curious and stay humble, she taught me.

My mom was curious about all things, places, and people. She thought there was something to learn from everything and everyone, even an occasional Democrat. She loved hearing people’s stories, whether by listening intently while they were being told or by reading about them. My mom sure loved to read and I’m so thankful she passed that on to me as well. While she was incredibly principled and held deep convictions, her curiosity kept her open to considering different perspectives from all ages and walks of life. This is turn, kept her humble. In her opinion, she was better than nobody.

 

Use compassion and forgiveness as your high road, she taught me.

My mom saw the best in people. Even the ones who caused her pain. She had compassion for their shortcomings and always reached for union. Kirk’s been listening to a podcast about why people from all walks of life adore Dolly Parton. One of her lines that stuck out is “forgiveness is all that there is.” Mom knew how to forgive. She believed in giving people a second chance, and often a third and fourth. She was truly a champion for the underdog and an advocate for the power of forgiveness.  

 

Love unconditionally, she taught me

If my mom could only be one thing to me, it was love. She gave it so naturally and freely. There was never a moment in my life that I questioned her love for And, she had it for so many of you, too.  She loved my dad beyond measure, she was truly the best mom and mother in law you could ask for.  But the people she loved with a purple passion  in her later years were her nine grandkids.  In them you will find her keen intellect, her intuition, her beauty, her creativity, her drive, her playfulness and love for animals, her grace and grit and sparkle.

Remain loyal to your people, she taught me.

My mom had amazing friendships. You’ve already heard about some of them. But there were so many more. In these last weeks, my mom reflected on her deep love for many others of you in the room today. For Patty Congdon and her daughters, Trish and Terryl. The three of them traveled from Colorado, California and Georgia to be here today.  When I called Patty to tell her that my mom needed hospice care, Patty said, “your mama had more impact on my adult life than just about anyone.”  The two of them shared a sister like connection and brought comfort and joy to each other.  My mom talked about the rich, multi-decade friendship that she and my dad shared with Ken and Carol Ann Frizzell who came to join us from California today.  Dave and Robin Maupin fall into that category, too. Dave is here today, too. Thank you all for traveling so far to be here. 

I hope many of you will get to meet these treasured friends while we’re all together.

Mom’s last twenty five years here in Arkansas brought great riches in the friendship department, too. She cherishes Betsy and Dave Linn and Brad and Lynda Stucky like family. And there are many others who meant so much to her.

Speak your truth and live with integrity, she taught me.

My mom always told me to leave places and people better than you found them.  

And finally, accept adversity.  It can be a gift if we let it be, she taught me.  This lesson she taught me over and over again.

Just as equally as my mom was gentle and loving, she was strong. She knew more than her share of tragedy during the last fifteen years. First was the slow decline of her functioning due to Parkinsons, which was challenging and frustrating for her in its own right. Then came the fight against breast cancer four years ago, followed by the aggressiveness of angiosarcoma during these last painful eighteen months. She could have succumbed to any of these illnesses and given in to discouragement. But her love for her family and faith in God somehow gave her the strength not only to go on, but to love life without bitterness. This spirit instilled in all of us a gratitude for every day we have together.

If you knew my mom at all, you knew that she was most comfortable when she was giving. It was far more difficult for her when she was in a position of needing help. Relatedly, she absolutely hated being the center of attention, especially in big group. Whether the occasion was as exciting as her finishing her PhD or as painful as recovering from yet another surgery, she didn’t like the limelight. If some of you were surprised or wonder why she didn’t share her pain more openly, it’s because of this trait. Do not think for a minute that such privacy had anything to do with not trusting any of you with her struggles, especially the ones she faced in the last weeks of her life. She just wanted to focus on the positive things and people that life offered her. Indeed, she was doing her deep work of accepting adversity and trying to let it continue to shape her character for the better, which she did to the very end of her life.

To close, I want to say from the bottom of my heart, thank you all for being here along the way, and more recently, for taking such good care of us during our time of grief. It has meant absolutely everything to have friends drop everything to cry with us, to say “we got you.” Of course, that’s the kind of person my Mom was in this world, too.

Rumi is my favorite poet.  He writes these words of comfort, “Your body is away from me

but there is a window open

from my heart to yours.

From this window, like the moon

I keep sending news secretly“

I really do not know how to go on without you. I will keep sending you news, Mama. Thank you for showing me how to love life and how to love others.