For those who do not know me, my name is Rob Marvin, and
I am happy to count myself as one of Virginia’s friends ~ and quite possibly,
her favorite.
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I will personally never forget this incarnation of Mother’s Day when we came together to honor the enduring love of a mother and grandmother, and for others, the life of a friend and neighbor, Virginia.
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As I sat to think about what I would say today, one image
of Virginia was foremost in my mind: She
was seated at the head of a large table surrounded by family and friends
offering up an insanely large amount
of food. How had I come to sit at this table?
~~~~~~~~~~
It must have been difficult for Virginia to sit idle, watching
as her three children bore the responsibility of caring for their ailing father
over two and one-half years as he languished in a nursing home. And while she could do nothing to ease their burden, she was surely proud to see her children acting on the example she had passed along to them over many years:
Family is everything.
During this time, our families were living parallel lives within the same nursing home; three doors down a common hall from Dominic, our Mother was living out her final days. And, as with Virginia’s children, we had long ago learned the importance of family in our lives.
When my twin brother, Jim, recently asked Charlie why it was that Virginia had taken to the two of us, his reply was simple: “Mom didn’t say much but she watched people and took in everything. She watched you care for your Mother and for my Dad.”
As months became years, all of us, the children of Virginia and Dorothy, were bound by a shared affection for our beloved parents as we did the only thing we knew how to do: we cared for them.
The love of family is the tie that binds all of us. Virginia respected this in her children … and in my twin brother and me in turn.
~~~~~~~~~~
Since being diagnosed with an incurable brain malignancy
little more than four weeks ago, no one left Virginia’s side without being
impressed by the living contradiction embodied by this first-generation
Italian-American. Increasingly frail and
weakened ~ she remained strong in spirit; eyes hampered by age ~ her vision
remained crystal clear; and, in a world of increasingly dizzying complexity ~
she projected herself as a selfless woman of quiet practicality and grace.When the time came for the physicians, nurses, social workers and family to make plans for her future, it was clear there would be little allowance made for debate:
Virginia was going home; to her home of 54 years where she raised her children and their children, to the kitchen where so much food was made and shared, and to the familiarity and comfort of her own bed.
Always the Mother, even at 83, Lucille, Joe and Charlie were still children in her eyes ~ even as they navigate through middle age. It is as if her motherly eyes wouldn’t allow her to see the children grown ~ as if adulthood was the singular province of a mother.
Perhaps it is.
Or, at least, so it seemed, until the morning of October 12th ~ when, with Charlie, his dog Lulu as well as a trusted friend and caregiver, Anita, at her side, Virginia slipped quietly into that long, good night.
~~~~~~~~~~
Having lost their father only five short months ago,
Virginia’s children are now learning, as did my twin-brother and I this past
January, that the death of a mother is unique ~ it seems to affect us in ways
far different from when our father’s die.I believe it marks an irrevocable severance with the past ~ as if cutting the umbilical cord that binds our affections, making us grounded in the world.
And, unlike with our father’s, we are intimately and inextricably linked to our mother’s ~ as flesh of their flesh, and blood of their blood.
Yes. Their childhood died along with Virginia this past week; but, like her, they are to be born again.
~~~~~~~~~~
His holiness, the late Pope Paul VI once remarked as to
the relationship between Mother’s and their children when he observed,“Every mother is like Moses. She does not enter the promise land but prepares a world she will not see.”
Virginia bore two healthy sons and one daughter, and nearly lived to celebrate her 84th birthday ~ which is tomorrow. She lived her life preparing Lucille, Joe and Charlie as well as her four grandchildren for an earthly land of promise she will no longer see ~ at least not from THIS vantage point.
But, her Lord assures us that she is now in the heavenly Promised Land alongside her beloved family who had gone on before her.
It is the contradiction of our humanity, the resurrection, and our place in it.
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I will end this Mother’s Day card of sorts, in prayerful
reverence of Virginia, my mother, Dorothy, and for all those mentioned silently
within your hearts:“The love of a mother is a veil … of a softer light … between the heart and our Heavenly Father.”
Virginia Ann Cervello is now fully in the light of our Heavenly Father by the redemption freely given by His Son.
And, through the promise of the resurrection, I speak for many when I pray for the day when we will no longer simply be our Mother’s sons or daughters, but united as children of God.
Sweet dreams, Virginia.
