Trudy Stein Eulogy
Introduction: John 1st of 3
Thank you for coming.
Hospital
A few rooms down from my mom’s was a lady who for days cried out. It was a bit disturbing. “Someone help me.” “Would someone come?” Every time I passed her room, she was alone. I never noticed anyone but the hospital staff with her. Hospitals are no fun.
On Saturday, July 19th, my wife Jen got a call from mom. She had been trying to reach me, but I was mostly in the canyon. She told Jen to tell me to come.
Jordan and I drove straight to the hospital the next morning and arrived in the afternoon. Mike and Jenny had been there. Certainly dad was there.
You could see the look, if you know what I mean. Mom was in great pain. The doctors had no idea of what was really going on. The idea was that perhaps the chemo had made her weak against infection. Some thought she had a pinched nerve, but we knew. The look tells you everything. In the couple weeks since her last blood transfusion, things had accelerated and changed.
I was blessed to spend the night with her that night. She had moments of lucidity that were awesome. But, things had changed.
Calls would start going out. Jen and Jack flew in. Lee Ann flew in. Paul and Diane and the kids would come. The Stein army was starting to move into motion. It got to the point that we had to be sensitive to all of the folks in her room and making sure everyone had time with her.
There were some very special moments. For me, a highlight came when she suddenly said, “everyone kiss me”. So, we all took a turn. We told her we loved her and kissed her. We cried a lot. I think we all knew.
The docs were trying to figure out a path to health. They were testing her for all kinds of stuff. The cultures all came back negative. She stopped eating, and this was a big deal.
And, then there were the moments, where the Trudy we knew came out. Funny moments. Joyful moments. Moments filled with life. Cancer may have robbed her body, but it didnt rob her spirit.
This was hard.
Over the next few days, things would progress. We talked to a lot of doctors. They were gracious enough to entertain the Stein army and answer all of our questions. The issue came up on mom’s lack of nutrition. The idea of a feeding tube was introduced. The concern was for her being a high risk for bleeding because of the cancer and chemo and such.
But, she would definitely have a major issue if she didnt get food.
At the time, we consulted with dad, and he decided to put the feeding tube in, I believe the next day, which would be Weds.
God
But, when Weds came, God moved into visible action.
Dr. Simons, mom’s oncologist, came to visit mom. When I heard her speak, it was so clear that God was talking through her. It was the compassion of the LORD like I had never experienced before. She talked about how mom’s cancer had doubled since the last test and how she had 2-3 months to go and that if we put the feeding tube in, it would only prolong suffering. It would do anything but give her life. And, mom lived life to its fullest. We all knew that making her a vegetable just to prolong her breathing was not life. That was not at all how mom lived or would want to live.
It was a super-hard message, but words just cannot describe that we knew it was the LORD telling us what to do. Everyone chatted, and dad made the decision to take her off the blood pressure medicine that artificially kept her alive.
Life
For mom, life had to be lived.
To her, living meant family. The greatest desire of mom’s heart was for her family to be together.
You know, her obituary defined her profession as “homemaker”. That really has a degrading tone to it. But, for my 60 years, I experienced something that is missing in much of today’s society – a home. A home with a mom. And a dad. A home with lots of love. With laughter, tears, tension, messiness, joy. And sorrow. Together.
Ours is a home where family did life.
I am not sure that we take much time today to ponder what it takes to “make a home”. Mom did it instinctively. It was God’s gift to us.
We all know how mom would do everything.. Clean. Cook. Cook some more. Clean some more. Way more Martha than Mary.
For me, I never realized that she was making room for love to flourish. It was a life-long sacrifice for a handful of people that meant the world to her. She laid herself down all of the time. She did it for her friends just the same because a home goes beyond the family walls.
We often joked around about this as being a little OCD type behavior, but I dont think that any of us realized what mom was doing. She was doing all the garbage that no one else really wants to do so that everyone could be present. Martha was making room for Mary.
This allowed us to experience the love that God had for us in those moments – through each other and for each other.
That’s a home made well.
And, it took a life laid down.
The Eleven
So, when the time came for the medicine to be turned off, eleven people gathered around one woman who spent her life sacrificing daily. And, unlike the woman a few rooms down, she was far from alone in her most challenging hour.
It reminds me of another person who was also surrounded by eleven of His closest folks during His most challenging hour.
And, in that very moment, Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this, that a person will lay down his life for his friends.” Jesus would do just that and the result is that salvation is available for anyone who believes. Because of a life laid down, we get to experience the overwhelming love of God.
And, on July 24th, a most remarkable woman, my mom, laid her life down for the last time.
But, as you can see, she was still making a home.
This is the fruit of a life lived well and loved well.
I thank mom for making our home.
I thank mom for modeling God’s love for us and teaching us what greater love really looks like.
You can see in the picture what that looks like tangibly.
Mom, welcome home.