What do you say at a time like this? I want to say everything. I want the perfect words for my Mom, thinking that if I can pick just the right words that somehow you will know and understand my mother as I do.
To know my mother is to know that she loved birds. I don't know how she developed this hobby, but I do remember Mom dragging Kerry, Todd and I around the fields, hills and swamps of Central New York, attempting to spot a certain species of bird that she had heard would be migrating that week. Mom's announcement that we would be going "birding" was always greeted by our collective moans and groans, as we knew we'd be forgoing play time to be in the woods with a bunch of bugs and snakes while Mom would be turning around every two minutes or less giving us "The look", you know, the one that said. "You had better be quiet before I drop kick you to North Syracuse!" As it turns out, Mom was a lot like the birds she loved to watch:
My Mom was a roadrunner- I cannot recall how many stories I've heard about Mom being "so much fun to be around." When many of the Conroy's tell me about first meeting my mother they tell me she pulled up with my father on the back of his motorcycle.
My Mom loved to dance. As a little girl she twirled around the kitchen with Aunt Sue and while we were in Florida during the last month of her life mom said, "Chelle, I want to see you dance." I really didn't want to, but after some very persistent cajoling I agreed. After the song was over I looked at Mom to see what she thought of my rump shaking? She looked really disappointed and resolutely declared "I failed, you dance like a white girl!".
Mom was a hippie- I bet some of you didn't know that. Mom travelled across the United States. On her way to California and made it as far as Iowa City where she lived in a house with a raccoon named Christopher Dill. When she tired of her adventure, Grandma and Grandpa Austin mailed her money for a Greyhound bus back to New York.
My Mom was like a barn swallow. Many of you are familiar with the barn on Jackson St. and the birds that would dive bomb you as you entered the front door. Mom was like this with the people she cared about. She sat perched in her nest up above, but if you got close to her chicks- watch out, you were in trouble. Mom was not one to cause trouble, but she never stood by and let anything happen to a loved one, if she could help it.
Mom was like a Canadian goose. Only a child of rural New York could learn to mark the changing of the seasons by the honk, honk of a goose. As a child, I distinctly remember breaking out in a smile when I could hear the first honk of the geese as they migrated after a long winter back to their homes in Canada. It doesn't matter what the groundhog or Al Roker say- There is no better indication of the end of a long winter than a goose!
We all knew my mother in different ways. Many of you have known my mother in the past 22 years as Mike Baran's wife. For the 38 years prior to that many of you knew my Mom very differently. Many of you have expressed to me over the past years and months that when my mother's new life began you lost the "old Nancy" and I'm sure that is true, to varying degrees. However, did you hear that "honk, honk, honk?" It's the sound of Mom letting you know she is returning after a long winter away. My Mom may not have accepted that she was nearing death, but on some level her mind knew. While we were in Florida, Mom and I did not often get more than 3 hours sleep at a time. Mom kept saying to me "Chelle, we're like two girls at camp, we're supposed to stay up all night and talk!" So, talk we did, or rather, Mom talked while I rubbed her ribs and listened. Mom gave me a detailed auto biography with no detail spared. This is neither the time nor the place to share all of those memories, but please know that she mentioned and thought of many of you. My mother spent much time talking about her sister and brothers. The resounding theme always being that she knew you would always be in her corner and that she loved you more than she had an opportunity to express. Mom also spoke often and kindly of her Conroy out laws-- I mean in-law. I don't think I can recall one thing Mom has ever said about a family member that was truly unkind. If something came up about a mistake made or opportunity missed, she usually said something like "well, some things just happen and they'll get it right the next time." My mom always did believe in second chances.
Kerry- Mom knew you the one person in the world that can go into politics and not worry about skeletons in your closet. We talked a lot about Charlottesville and you attending the University of Virginia to get your law degree. This is something Mom brought up and wanted very much to talk to you about before she passed.
Todd- Mom bragged on you to everyone we talked to in Florida. She was so excited about baby Mackenzie and how happy you are to be married to Danai. Mom talked over and over again about how she and I would concoct a plan to make you realize you needed to get out of Norfolk Public Schools and into a program that challenges your MIND instead of your vocal cords. She kept saying over and over again how she hoped you would learn that happiness is found in simple things like family and friends. Ultimately, Mom knew you were on the cusp of great things. She never doubted that you have the ability to be the man you want to be and she loved you very much.
Mom was like an Owl- I was over at Mom's house a few months a go when her social security statement came in the mail and she wanted me to look at it. Did you know that the most money Mom ever made in a year was under $17,000? I would be truly flabbergasted if I ever meet anyone as brilliant as my mother during my lifetime. She could converse knowledgably to anyone about anything. She was smarter than Kerry, Todd and I put together and if she had received a paycheck for the wisdom she has passed on to us, she would have easily made six figures a year.
Mom was like a Pileated Woodpecker- Mom worried sometimes about being too pessimistic. Mom had her ups and downs like any person does, bit I can tell you unequivocally that she was the best kind of optimist. I wish every single one of you could have been there with Mom and I in Florida to see her beating cancer back into the hellish shadows it came from, with celery sticks and asparagus spears. Mom just kept plugging away at her cancer just like a woodpecker- attacking it again and again in her attempts to heal.
Did you know that a Pileated woodpeckers pair stays together on its territory all year round? This would be Mom and Mike puttering around together. Going for breakfast and then hitting up every thrift store they found along the way-all day long, all year long.
My mother has an unfulfilled, life long dream of seeing a Pileated woodpecker. The plot we chose to bury her at is right in front of a half-dead tree that I'm sure will have a Pileated woodpecker living in it in no time.
This past Christmas my Uncle Dan told me I reminded him of my mother. At the time I wondered about that as its not something I often hear. Today, I tell you that it's the best compliment I've ever received in my life.
"I love you Mom, goodnight."
