Remembrance [first posted 2005]
[Mom's funeral was a family affair, with children and spouses as pall-bearers, lectors and eulogists. Father James Gulley was the celebrant, assisted by old family friends Fr. Joe Cotugno and Fr. Joe Anselment. The readings included the one from the Book of Tobit which I had stumbled upon the day I learned of her cancer, and St. John's account of the Last Supper and the commandment of Jesus to "Love one another, as I have loved you." As is the custom, Father Gulley incensed the coffin at the Offertory. When he had finished, the incense rose and gathered and for a few moments formed a distinct halo over her mortal remains.]
Remarks of Dale Frances Going at the Funeral of Laura B. Going, 11/10/95
when I was 17, I gave laura this e.e. cummings poem for mothers day. I remember feeling a kind of terror and urgency because I thought my mother had no idea how much love and awe i felt for her, and that once she read this poem, it would all be over, the cat would be out of the bag, i could never look her in the face again, it would change everything. i was an adolescent daughter, and i knew my mother was a saint. it was horrible.
when i came down for breakfast after slipping the poem under her door, all mom said was, thanks for the poem. it was very nice but i don't think i understood it. it had never occured to me that the poem wasn't clear as daylight. well mom, listen up.
in heaven, everyone understands poetry.
if there are any heavens
my mother will
(all by herself) have one
it will be a heaven of lilies
& lilacs
of yellow & of blackred
roses
my father will be (deep
like a rose
tall like a rose)
standing near my
swaying over her
(silent)
with eyes which are really
petals
with a face really which
is a flower with
hands
which whisper
this is my beloved my
suddenly in sunlight
he will bow,
& the whole garden will
bow
REMARKS of Mary T. Going at Funeral of Laura B. Going
11/10/95
The first weekend we learned of Laura's illness we attended Mass together here at St. Mary's. Father Anthony Gulley's homily assured us that something good always comes when bad things happen to good people. I wondered what could possibly be good about Gramma having cancer.
For us, the past three short months has allowed the Going family to become reacquainted. We got to know each other again, we listened and supported each other. And during the last two weeks we even moved back in with her. Ma's house was alive with the grandchildren she loved so much, her family and friends and music and laughter; the way she always loved it.
Gramma often said, "Che sera sera." Her last words to me were, "Mary, day by day."
Recently Robert and I were inspired by Monsignor Glavin's prayer from his anniversary celebration:
"God permits the sorrows and disappointments lest you become too well satisfied with this life and forget that you are on earth merely as a pilgrim on the way to your real home."
Laura has gone home to heaven leaving our hearts heavy,
but filled with memories of her smile,
her gifts of compassion, patience and wisdom,
and her unconditional love.
REMARKS of Robert N. Going at Funeral of Laura B. Going
11/10/95
Our Irish grandmother, on her deathbed, summoned me to her side. "You know," she said, " when I first learned that your father wanted to marry your mother, I didn't like the idea at all because I knew she was (whisper) ITALIAN!
"But," she added, "once I got to know her, I realized she really is a wonderful woman."
That was her big secret, that Mom was a wonderful woman, a fact that was plainly evident to everyone who ever met her.
As long as we're giving away family secrets, here's another one. Most of you knew her as Laura, but her real name was Laurabelle Mae. She dropped the "belle" and the "Mae" as soon as she left home for college, but for some reason she shared the secret with our father, who ever afterwards would send her love letters addressed to "Miss Laura-belly Mae Brunelli". And he went on to share that secret with each of his children as soon as we were old enough to guffaw.
Many of you knew Mom as a teacher, not only as the Director of the Fulmont Adult Learning Center but also as an English and Math teacher at St. Mary's Institute, where she even taught a couple of her own children.
But we knew her as our First Teacher, and she taught us a great many things as we were growing up.
She taught us to laugh. She had a marvelous sense of humor and found amusement in the every-day trials of life. I think she would have really enjoyed watching her children, only a few hours after her death, composing a "TOP TEN LIST" of reasons Mom never threw anything out. (The number ONE
reason: "Robert might want it.").
She taught us to love. Our house was always filled with love overflowing. If we truly wish to honor her, we can do no less than to take that love which she poured out on all of us and share it with each other, always.
She taught us to survive. She belonged to that wonderful generation of Americans who passed through the Great Depression and World War II and went on to build a better life for the rest of us. A child of immigrants, she spoke no English until she attended school at the age of 5 and went on to be Valedictorian of her High School class and finished on top of her class at Emmanuel College as well.
Dad's illnesses caused her married life to be a constant economic struggle. He nearly died in 1955 when she had four children six and under and was totally incapacitated for five years before his death in 1974 when Sean was only eight.
And in teaching us to survive, she also taught us to pray.
Some of my earliest memories are of Mom teaching me the basic prayers. Many evenings we knelt by her bed as a family reciting the rosary. She attended daily Mass whenever possible, even when we were on vacation. ESPECIALLY when we were on vacation.
She recited the rosary every day of her life, beginning each rosary, of course, with the Apostle's Creed, thereby confirming each day her belief in
The Communion of Saints,
The Forgiveness of Sins,
The Resurrection of the Body,
And Life Everlasting.
And so, most gracious and loving Father, we are pleased to present to you this day your newest Saint.
A Saint of Love and Laughter,
Of Prayer and Survival.
Saint Laura-belly Mae Brunelli Going:
The patron saint
of Moms.
Remarks of Dale Frances Going at the Funeral of Laura B. Going, 11/10/95
when I was 17, I gave laura this e.e. cummings poem for mothers day. I remember feeling a kind of terror and urgency because I thought my mother had no idea how much love and awe i felt for her, and that once she read this poem, it would all be over, the cat would be out of the bag, i could never look her in the face again, it would change everything. i was an adolescent daughter, and i knew my mother was a saint. it was horrible.
when i came down for breakfast after slipping the poem under her door, all mom said was, thanks for the poem. it was very nice but i don't think i understood it. it had never occured to me that the poem wasn't clear as daylight. well mom, listen up.
in heaven, everyone understands poetry.
if there are any heavens
my mother will
(all by herself) have one
it will be a heaven of lilies
& lilacs
of yellow & of blackred
roses
my father will be (deep
like a rose
tall like a rose)
standing near my
swaying over her
(silent)
with eyes which are really
petals
with a face really which
is a flower with
hands
which whisper
this is my beloved my
suddenly in sunlight
he will bow,
& the whole garden will
bow
REMARKS of Mary T. Going at Funeral of Laura B. Going
11/10/95
The first weekend we learned of Laura's illness we attended Mass together here at St. Mary's. Father Anthony Gulley's homily assured us that something good always comes when bad things happen to good people. I wondered what could possibly be good about Gramma having cancer.
For us, the past three short months has allowed the Going family to become reacquainted. We got to know each other again, we listened and supported each other. And during the last two weeks we even moved back in with her. Ma's house was alive with the grandchildren she loved so much, her family and friends and music and laughter; the way she always loved it.
Gramma often said, "Che sera sera." Her last words to me were, "Mary, day by day."
Recently Robert and I were inspired by Monsignor Glavin's prayer from his anniversary celebration:
"God permits the sorrows and disappointments lest you become too well satisfied with this life and forget that you are on earth merely as a pilgrim on the way to your real home."
Laura has gone home to heaven leaving our hearts heavy,
but filled with memories of her smile,
her gifts of compassion, patience and wisdom,
and her unconditional love.
REMARKS of Robert N. Going at Funeral of Laura B. Going
11/10/95
Our Irish grandmother, on her deathbed, summoned me to her side. "You know," she said, " when I first learned that your father wanted to marry your mother, I didn't like the idea at all because I knew she was (whisper) ITALIAN!
"But," she added, "once I got to know her, I realized she really is a wonderful woman."
That was her big secret, that Mom was a wonderful woman, a fact that was plainly evident to everyone who ever met her.
As long as we're giving away family secrets, here's another one. Most of you knew her as Laura, but her real name was Laurabelle Mae. She dropped the "belle" and the "Mae" as soon as she left home for college, but for some reason she shared the secret with our father, who ever afterwards would send her love letters addressed to "Miss Laura-belly Mae Brunelli". And he went on to share that secret with each of his children as soon as we were old enough to guffaw.
Many of you knew Mom as a teacher, not only as the Director of the Fulmont Adult Learning Center but also as an English and Math teacher at St. Mary's Institute, where she even taught a couple of her own children.
But we knew her as our First Teacher, and she taught us a great many things as we were growing up.
She taught us to laugh. She had a marvelous sense of humor and found amusement in the every-day trials of life. I think she would have really enjoyed watching her children, only a few hours after her death, composing a "TOP TEN LIST" of reasons Mom never threw anything out. (The number ONE
reason: "Robert might want it.").
She taught us to love. Our house was always filled with love overflowing. If we truly wish to honor her, we can do no less than to take that love which she poured out on all of us and share it with each other, always.
She taught us to survive. She belonged to that wonderful generation of Americans who passed through the Great Depression and World War II and went on to build a better life for the rest of us. A child of immigrants, she spoke no English until she attended school at the age of 5 and went on to be Valedictorian of her High School class and finished on top of her class at Emmanuel College as well.
Dad's illnesses caused her married life to be a constant economic struggle. He nearly died in 1955 when she had four children six and under and was totally incapacitated for five years before his death in 1974 when Sean was only eight.
And in teaching us to survive, she also taught us to pray.
Some of my earliest memories are of Mom teaching me the basic prayers. Many evenings we knelt by her bed as a family reciting the rosary. She attended daily Mass whenever possible, even when we were on vacation. ESPECIALLY when we were on vacation.
She recited the rosary every day of her life, beginning each rosary, of course, with the Apostle's Creed, thereby confirming each day her belief in
The Communion of Saints,
The Forgiveness of Sins,
The Resurrection of the Body,
And Life Everlasting.
And so, most gracious and loving Father, we are pleased to present to you this day your newest Saint.
A Saint of Love and Laughter,
Of Prayer and Survival.
Saint Laura-belly Mae Brunelli Going:
The patron saint
of Moms.