A eulogy for Grandma...

The eulogy I offered at the funeral today:   What a blessing that we gather on such a beautiful day to remember such a beautiful woman!  The gathering of family and sharing of stories buoys me as we remember a woman who has made a tremendous difference in all of our lives.  Our stories sound a little familiar as we remember a woman who welcomed us with open arms, a warm smile, and all the time in the world, as we remember a woman with faith enough to move mountains.   Victoria Evelyn Dieringer, to all who knew her, she was "an ordinary saint among us," a woman who loved God so extraordinarily much that it showed in all she did.  To me, she was my grandmother, my godmother and my namesake.  I am blessed to know her well because she was also my neighbor.  Growing up down the street from Grandma's house, we spent a lot of time together, which confused more than a few who sometimes thought I was one of the twelve.  The memories we made and her role modeling run deep.  A strong matriarch and a true Christian, Grandma embraced a call to love and service.   My little sister Miki and I have been reflecting together about our dear Grandma D.  Granted, we first remember card games, gum drop cookies, and daily mass.  We cannot remember a time she won in concentration, but she was always willing to play.  A game of Trouble, UNO, cribbage or crazy eights was always in progress until we were a little older, when Grandma taught us to play Gin.  And her cookie jar was never empty when we visited, even in the summer when we would visit every day to swim and play.  Though in the summer when the raspberries were ripe, we had no interest in cookies: we would hop the fence from the pool, scamper through the bark to the berry bushes, and stuff our mouths.  If there were enough, Grandma would give us a little silver mixing bowl to fill, and magically she turned them into a frothy whip served over homemade custard, a recipe I have tried to recreate without success, more than once.  During the school year, twenty-five minutes before the first bell, daily mass began under the upper-grade wing in the old worship space.  The only acceptable tardiness for school was attending daily mass.  On most mornings the four of us Ford kids vied for the spot next to Grandma, getting to hold her hand during the "Our Father".  Even still, I loved to sit next to her at mass when I came to visit, partially so I wouldn't look so short next to my family in the pew.  These stories can go on and on.  Over thirty years of running up and down Henderson Street to play, and Grandma was never too busy for us-- whenever we showed up, we had her undivided attention.    These memories of "childhood" give way to who Grandma was.  As Miki & I grew up and followed her footsteps down the halls of St. Mary's Academy, we paid more notice to her leadership, faith, and strength.  Often by her side for these activities, we remember Grandma for 8 am daily mass at Holy Family, praying the evening rosary, communion calls to nursing homes, visiting homebound parishioners, and hospitality for all who knocked on her door.  Even at the end, she wanted to make sure her friend Mary would know she could not bring her communion and visit if she was delayed at the hospital.  Grandma made time for supporting good causes—the list is long.  Her enthusiasm for the Holy Names' sisters' commitment to Catholic education and justice for women has always been strong and made such a difference in our lives.  She modeled their values of faith, justice, and compassion most humbly in all aspects of her life.  Speaking for many young women and mothers who knew her, we all have tremendous respect and admiration for the way Grandma accomplished so much with quiet, confident graciousness – a way of life we all aspire to.   And above all, we remember Grandma for her unfaltering dedication and love for our Grandpa.  The love between these two generous spirits throughout their years of marriage inspires us all.  Her attention and service to him did not go unnoticed, even when we were too young to understand.    Watching my goddaughter, six-year old Maddie, look on and look around at the family gathered around Grandma at the funeral home on Saturday, I remember what a blessing it is to have been Grandma's "Girlie-girlie".  To have lived my first eighteen years one street-crossing away.  To have had my first sleepovers up the street, most of my birthday parties, and all of my Christmases.  What a blessing!  It will be my responsibility, and all our responsibility, to remember Grandma to Maddie and to the younger grandchildren and great grandchildren.  To share the stories of fortitude and faith with the youngest among us, so they remember, too.   My grandma was a humble woman, doing so much, none of it for recognition.  She was moved by her faith, called by her God.  When she was weary, she believed God would give her strength, and when she had emptied herself for others, God would fill her up.  Although she certainly knew hardships and pain, her losses never impeded her ability to act justly, love tenderly, and walk humbly with her God. (Micah 6:8).    As we look on at her body, we do not see her here with us.  We cannot sit with her in her regular front row seat.  There will be no more games of concentration, and I will have to try harder at the raspberry whip.  Though we grieve for ourselves and each other, we celebrate and say, "Allelulia! She has risen, too!" because we know in our hearts that God lifted her up and gave her eternal rest; she is reunited with the love of her life, dancing again.  She will live on in our hearts and our memories.  We love you, Grandma.  I love you, Grandma.