Dear Mother

May 10, 2020

Dear Mother,

Today is Mother’s Day.  I’m thinking of you as I’ve done every day since you left us sixteen months ago.  My memories of you are a constant companion that bring joy and consolation.  Yet the emptiness lingers. My salve is a lifetime of memories that soothe my soul, a trove of happy moments together.  I remember fondly the last family Thanksgiving that all of your five children celebrated with you.  Your health was failing and each of us sensed, but never voiced it, that this could possibly be our last holiday together. Each of us, including your daughters-in-law, spent time alone with you.   I cherish particularly that afternoon when you and I were in the sun room.  You were not very talkative then, your mind wandering in its own private world. We looked at each, neither of us saying a word. I held your hand and when I did speak about past events in Daddy’s and your life together, you smiled.  On the eve of our return home, we went to your room to say good night.  You had just finished your prayers.  You held each of us tightly, not wanting to let go.  You told us in a strong, but emotionally full voice, that you loved us.  We kissed you good-bye and voiced our own love for you.

Several months after your funeral, Teri sent me a box full of items you collected over the years, a potpourri of letters, cards, newspaper clippings, papers I’ve written, chronicling my personal and professional life.  You had similar files for each of your five children.  In that box I discovered several Mother’s Day cards I had sent to you.  I repeat partially the script from one of those cards, “…my heart will always be filled with the joy of knowing your love.  It is the most precious gift I have ever received, for it is the one you have so wisely taught me to set free and share with others.  I love you for being a caring person, a remarkable woman, and an exceptional mother.  This love that you have given will forever live within me.  Thank you for being my mother.”

Mother,  in my eulogy on January 12, 2019, the day after your ninety-third birthday, I expressed that love and gratitude.

Eulogy of Anna Trena Saizon Guillaume:

We as a family mourn the passing of our mother, mother-in-law, grandmother and great-grandmother. But though we mourn, we celebrate her life and we are glad with all our hearts for the love and devotion she gave to each of us.  We celebrate her goodness, her kindness to others, her gentle nature, and her elegance. We exult and we are glad that she is with God.  Her entire life has been a testimony to her love of God.  Her fidelity to her faith was manifest in the way she lived her life – a joyful life of a devoted, devout woman.  It was that unconditional love of God and of family that she instilled in each of us.  Every morning and every evening, she prayed to God to watch over her children.  As she would say, “I begin with the oldest, Alfred, and pray for you and Melanie and your children and my great grandchildren, and then I go down the line to Rhaoul and Geretta, and do the same thing for Cynthia and her family, for Teri, then for Warmoth and Laurie and their family. And she would say that God has never failed her. In the year I spent in Vietnam, she went to Mass every day for my safe return home. She and my father were fond of saying that they had five jewels, each different, each special.  They believed in the promise of a good education and instilled in us that we could be anything and achieve whatever we wanted with discipline and determination.  Another gift that they gave to us was respect for self and for others, to accept everyone, no matter their race, creed or status in life.

When we visited her for Thanksgiving, I had an inkling that her time was near.  In one of our conversations, she asked me to tell her something about our dad.  I told her how the two of them loved to dance.  And indeed they were remarkable dancers!  “Misty” was their signature tune.  So I played Johnny Mathis’ version of Misty for her on YouTube.  Her face lit up and she began to sing the words as she rhythmically slapped her thigh.  Then I played Nat King Cole’s “Unforgettable” and Dinah Washington’s “What a Difference A Day Makes.”  She knew all the words. The sparkle in her eyes and the expressive joy on her face will be indelibly stamped in my memory and will forever resonate in my heart.  We love you, Mother. You are unforgettable!  Dance in Heaven with Dad!

Love, Alfred, Jr.