In Celebration of Betty
Betty Jayne Penny, c. 1944
Our Mom gave me many pieces of advice over the years … most of them quite sound: Stand up straight. Be yourself. Don’t put all your eggs in one man’s basket. [Should’ve listened to her on that one!]
I can think of only two pieces of not-so-wise advice, one of which was, “Don’t cry, Darling.” Well … I might, so please bear with me … for the loss of our Mom is cryworthy.
We realize that many of you knew Betty only in recent years – in person or through friendship with Susanne, Joe, her grandchildren, and me – and that, therefore, you mightn’t truly know Our Mom. So I will tell you just a few things about Betty Jayne Penny Gavin….
Late one night 12 Septembers ago, I ran into a childhood friend in the Jewel; she was last-minute shopping for the ingredients for a ‘Betty Gavin Cake’ (a homemade, double-layer cake) for her daughter’s birthday. Our Mom was famous for those and the birthday parties with simple games that made us feel so special. Each of us had our own party, even though Susanne’s and my birthdays are but two days apart. [And, yes, she's the older sister!]
When our Dad was due to arrive from work, Mom would call us in, clean us up, put on a different dress (she always wore a dress – so proper and beautiful, as you’ve seen) and a fresh “face” … and we’d all welcome Dad home at the top of the stairs – one taking
his hat, one his coat, one his briefcase. Mom would have her Manhattan [I'm having one this afternoon in her honor, justsoyouknow!], Dad his martini – in chilled glasses, thankyouverymuch – and we’d all sit down to a family dinner – and then to the ‘front and center’ of doing dishes.
She’d make pancakes of a Sunday morning in the shape of bunnies or hearts, her signature roast beef dinner with Yorkshire pudding and crispy browned potatoes, and delicious sandwiches – heavy on the mayo, cut in quarters, with chips in the middle. She made our Halloween costumes from scratch and Barbie doll clothes from dishtowels. She volunteered at our schools and made “cocoa” to keep us warm at football games. And when we’d come in from a date there’d be a note beside the light – always left on:
“Hi! Welcome Home. Hope you had fun. Night Night, Darling. Love, Mom. xox.”
June 2005. Mom’s handwriting faltered and quotes framed her name but Mom’s essence – Love – remained.
Simple things? Perhaps. There were “big” things, too. Like the way Mom cared tirelessly for our Dad in his illness, and for our Gram thereafter. How she made everyone who met her feel like she or he was the most important person in the room – perhaps in the Universe. How she always saw the goodness in a person – and always said only kind things. And how, whenever I screwed up my Life (and I’ve done so on several occasions) … or when I screwed up courage enough to follow my dreams or my heart to build a Life … Mom always believed in and encouraged me – even when it meant she’d be on her own again. And how, best of all, she always sought to understand me and help me and Love me … exactly as I am – all of us, exactly as we are – no matter what. No small or ordinary thing, that.
If anything about Mom’s life was ordinary – it was done with – she lived exemplifying – extraordinary Love. Mom said once, “When Maureen cuts, I bleed.” At the time, I thought it a most profound statement on being a parent, though I’ve never had a child to keep.
I now believe it the most profound statement of Mom’s essence: Love.
In these last years, Mom was “cut” – a lot. Through it all, as Joe will tell you, Mom was, patient, kind, thoughtful, clever (“Maureen and I are running here, there, and yonder – and we’re almost to yonder”), exceedingly gracious (thanking nurses after they drew blood or changed dressings!), always ready with a smile, a kind word, a hand to hold, a willingness to scratch your back forever, and a warm and Loving heart.
Through God’s Grace, Mom now has a peace beyond all understanding. She’s clear thinking. I truly believe Mom is “dancing with Dad in Paradise.” And she is “cut” no more. Still, now, we bleed.
So, thank you for being here today with Su and Joe and me – all of us who Love Mom – to celebrate her Life and Love … so many from afar … all with such Love for Our Mom. Thank you.
And thank you for honoring us and Mom by doing a ‘Betty Gavin Kindness’ – any small or ‘ordinary’ thing you might do – with great Love.
In our last afternoon conversation, Mom looked at me and said I looked tired. She patted her lap and said, “If you want to put your head down here and nap a bit, that’s alright with me.” Love IS an Action Verb.
We exchanged final words the evening before her passing, when finally she was comfortable and there was one last flicker of consciousness. I was holding her hand and I leaned down and said, “Night Night, Mom.” She said, “Night Night, Darling.” I whispered,
“I Love You, Mom.” And she said, “Thank you.”
So Mom to be thanking me. So fortunate am I to be Betty Gavin’s daughter – are we to be her children, her neighbors, her friends. So, please join me as I say, as I do still, and will, every night: Night Night, Mom. Sleep with Angels. I Love You Forever. Thank you.
In Celebration of Betty Jayne Penny Gavin©
Maureen’s Eulogy at the Mass of Betty’s Resurrection, November 9, 2005
Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Church (Pastor Emeritus Fr. Russell’s Parish)
©2005-2010 Betty’s Worldwide