On this day three years ago, Mom was admitted to the hospital. By the end of the day she would be diagnosed with a large mass on the left side of her brain. It would be another month before she left the hospital for rehab, and many months before she would return to her own home. 23 months later she would take her last breath and leave home for the last time.
Three years later - the grief and loneliness is still a crushing pain, like this all happened just yesterday.
Miss you a ton, Mom.
Tuesday, February 10
Thursday, July 24
Eulogy
I wrote the following words for Mom and shared them with our friends and family at her funeral on December 23. Cleaning up some files this evening, I came across the eulogy and realized that, in the post-funeral haze, I never posted it to Mom's blog.
I'm a slow writer. I enjoy it, but I ponder every word and write dozens of drafts. Email is torture; it takes me forever to craft responses. Of course, Mom loved good writing of all kinds and always encouraged me to write; she was my biggest fan. So I decided that writing a eulogy was my responsibility and the best way to honor her memory.
I thought about what I would write for months before she passed away, but I couldn't bring myself to put a single word to paper until it was time. A few months after Mom was first diagnosed, I was struggling with nightmares and fear of what lay ahead for our family, so I went to see a counselor. Not a very good one, as it turns out, but she said one thing that really stuck with me. "Don't go there, until you're there." Meaning, don't imagine the thing you're afraid of until it's really standing there in front of you. Torturing yourself mentally won't prevent what you fear from coming true.
So I tried hard not to think about it, and I didn't write anything, but then we were there. We had so many details to pull together very fast because it was almost Christmas, and we didn't want our friends to have to choose between the funeral and their family time. So we burned the midnight oil and pulled everything together in two days: the funeral home, the music, her outfit, the obituary, and the slideshow complete with photos from every part of her life.
Then the eulogy. When I couldn't put it off any longer, and the morning of the funeral was upon us, I sat down and wrote it all in one sitting. Like Mom taught me, I built an outline first, and then just two drafts and I was done. Thankfully I saved many emails from Mom over the years; it helped to go back and read them again, hearing her voice through her words. I like to think she was collaborating with me. Reading these words now, I wish I could do a few more drafts. This version is okay, though. I think she would have liked it.
--------
Hi everyone. I’m Sara, or “Daughter #3” as my mom sometimes called me.
First, a bit of business. Our family is requesting that anyone who would like to honor our mother consider a donation to the new Judy Worrell Memorial Fund at the American Airlines Credit Union. It will be used to establish a scholarship for graduates of North Richland Middle School and Richland High School. Information on how to contribute is on the program.
Also, we would like to thank all of you who showed up in force when Mom was first diagnosed and who supported her throughout the last 22 months. Very special thanks to the staff of Interim Hospice, especially her physical therapist Marilee Luna and nurse Ileine O’Connell. Marilee and Ileine began caring for Mom in the summer of 2012, and they gave exactly what our family needed: good medical care, a warm hug, and a listening ear. They never gave up.
You all know that Mom was very sick for the final 22 months of her life. She surpassed the average life expectancy by many months - her sheer willpower held the end at bay for a long time. So I’ve had a lot of time on planes traveling between my home in California and my home here in Texas, and many times I found myself teary on the flight thinking about all that I will miss about Mom. Things that I wish I’d done while she was still with us to make her proud, like get a graduate degree as she did.
That said, I had 39 years with Mom, and she seemed to think I turned out pretty good. So when I stopped to think about what I did learn from Mom in all that time, I realized this award-winning teacher in the classroom passed on the right lessons to me all along the way, too.
Today I would like to share a few thoughts with you all about the life lesson plan Mom taught to me.
Life lesson #1: Love is action.
Mom had a full-time job as a teacher when I was growing up, and even so she still had a home-cooked meal at the family dinner table every night. Busy with three daughters, a husband, and even a cat, we had a lot of laundry, but our house was still decorated beautifully for every holiday, and the dining table was full of tins of homemade cookies and fudge.
Growing up, I thought everyone’s home was like that. It wasn’t until I became an adult and parent that I realized how hard that must have been. How in the world did she and Daddy do all of that and make it look so easy? I don’t remember her complaining about a long commute like I do (although she did complain about grading papers), and I don’t remember takeout dinners very often. I do remember Mom woke early and often fell asleep on the couch grading those papers. She was the last to the dinner table because she made sure everyone else had what they wanted first. She was full of energy and optimism, and she had high standards for how our family home would feel.
This is from an email she sent me a few years ago:
Life lesson #2: A full life has equal parts work and play.
There’s no doubt that Mom worked very hard as a teacher, but others here will tell those stories. Outside the classroom, she worked and played just as hard. When we lived in New Mexico, Mom had a large garden in our backyard, and she loved working in it. She once gave me a patch of dirt and said I could grow whatever I wanted, and I chose green beans. I wanted them to be the BEST green beans, so I watered them every day and let them grow and grow…they were huge. Mom knew they were past their prime, but she still helped me snap off the ends and cheerfully ate them anyway – strings like rope and all.
After all three girls finally left home, I think Mom and Daddy initially felt some of that empty nest syndrome. They seemed to get over it fairly quickly, and they enjoyed several trips to Napa Valley and told great stories about wine dinners and the people they met. After 50 years together, they still had more fun with each other than with anyone else.
On my 30th birthday, Mom sent me this email:
Lesson #3: Make a difference in the life of a child.
Judging from all the emails, cards and artwork we received from Mom’s students, she made a difference in many, many lives. Of course, the biggest impact was in the lives of her daughters and grandchildren. It was pretty amazing to watch Mom transform into Grandma when her first grandbaby, Caroline, was born. She took on this new job with gusto. Alicia told me when Mom first heard that she was going to be a grandma, her response was, “Hot dog, hot dog, hot dog!”
Her enthusiasm for grandparenting had no equal, and she was happy to do whatever she could to help us. She taught her granddaughters to read in “Grandma School”, and her house is full of children’s books. I mean, we have more children’s books than most small town libraries.
When my son Macklin was born, she came to Chicago and spent one of his first weeks with us. It was the first one-on-one time I had with Mom in a long time, and she was the one to convince me motherhood was not an insurmountable challenge. She kept repeating, “You can do this.” It was a wonderful week, and I cried my eyes out when she left. She did, too. (A family with seven girls – we’re a weepy bunch.)
Later she sent me another email:
Undoubtedly everyone in this room has felt the impact of the last two years. Perhaps it changed your view of the world and of your place in it. It certainly did for me. I can say without reservation that I am a better wife, mother, sister, and daughter today than I was before, because of what Mom taught me throughout life, and especially in the last two years. She was the epitome of strength, determination, and love even on her worst days.
To close, I would like to ask everyone to use this experience to remember Judy’s lessons, her passion for learning and reaching high, and to honor her motto:
Start now! Stay Focused! Finish strong!
I love you, Mom.
I'm a slow writer. I enjoy it, but I ponder every word and write dozens of drafts. Email is torture; it takes me forever to craft responses. Of course, Mom loved good writing of all kinds and always encouraged me to write; she was my biggest fan. So I decided that writing a eulogy was my responsibility and the best way to honor her memory.
I thought about what I would write for months before she passed away, but I couldn't bring myself to put a single word to paper until it was time. A few months after Mom was first diagnosed, I was struggling with nightmares and fear of what lay ahead for our family, so I went to see a counselor. Not a very good one, as it turns out, but she said one thing that really stuck with me. "Don't go there, until you're there." Meaning, don't imagine the thing you're afraid of until it's really standing there in front of you. Torturing yourself mentally won't prevent what you fear from coming true.
So I tried hard not to think about it, and I didn't write anything, but then we were there. We had so many details to pull together very fast because it was almost Christmas, and we didn't want our friends to have to choose between the funeral and their family time. So we burned the midnight oil and pulled everything together in two days: the funeral home, the music, her outfit, the obituary, and the slideshow complete with photos from every part of her life.
Then the eulogy. When I couldn't put it off any longer, and the morning of the funeral was upon us, I sat down and wrote it all in one sitting. Like Mom taught me, I built an outline first, and then just two drafts and I was done. Thankfully I saved many emails from Mom over the years; it helped to go back and read them again, hearing her voice through her words. I like to think she was collaborating with me. Reading these words now, I wish I could do a few more drafts. This version is okay, though. I think she would have liked it.
--------
Words for Mom
First, a bit of business. Our family is requesting that anyone who would like to honor our mother consider a donation to the new Judy Worrell Memorial Fund at the American Airlines Credit Union. It will be used to establish a scholarship for graduates of North Richland Middle School and Richland High School. Information on how to contribute is on the program.
Also, we would like to thank all of you who showed up in force when Mom was first diagnosed and who supported her throughout the last 22 months. Very special thanks to the staff of Interim Hospice, especially her physical therapist Marilee Luna and nurse Ileine O’Connell. Marilee and Ileine began caring for Mom in the summer of 2012, and they gave exactly what our family needed: good medical care, a warm hug, and a listening ear. They never gave up.
You all know that Mom was very sick for the final 22 months of her life. She surpassed the average life expectancy by many months - her sheer willpower held the end at bay for a long time. So I’ve had a lot of time on planes traveling between my home in California and my home here in Texas, and many times I found myself teary on the flight thinking about all that I will miss about Mom. Things that I wish I’d done while she was still with us to make her proud, like get a graduate degree as she did.
That said, I had 39 years with Mom, and she seemed to think I turned out pretty good. So when I stopped to think about what I did learn from Mom in all that time, I realized this award-winning teacher in the classroom passed on the right lessons to me all along the way, too.
Today I would like to share a few thoughts with you all about the life lesson plan Mom taught to me.
Life lesson #1: Love is action.
Mom had a full-time job as a teacher when I was growing up, and even so she still had a home-cooked meal at the family dinner table every night. Busy with three daughters, a husband, and even a cat, we had a lot of laundry, but our house was still decorated beautifully for every holiday, and the dining table was full of tins of homemade cookies and fudge.
Growing up, I thought everyone’s home was like that. It wasn’t until I became an adult and parent that I realized how hard that must have been. How in the world did she and Daddy do all of that and make it look so easy? I don’t remember her complaining about a long commute like I do (although she did complain about grading papers), and I don’t remember takeout dinners very often. I do remember Mom woke early and often fell asleep on the couch grading those papers. She was the last to the dinner table because she made sure everyone else had what they wanted first. She was full of energy and optimism, and she had high standards for how our family home would feel.
This is from an email she sent me a few years ago:
“...Since your dad won't be here this weekend, we may have to eat out. Won't it be nice to have a "girls' day out"! We haven't had one of those in so long! You do know that Caroline and Catherine know what a "girls' day out" is don't you? It means Grandma buys them something and we have a good time. ... We might even invite Scott. Poor fella, we don't want him to be lonely and we might need someone to carry our packages.”Mom’s love for us was generous, selfless, and all action.
Life lesson #2: A full life has equal parts work and play.
There’s no doubt that Mom worked very hard as a teacher, but others here will tell those stories. Outside the classroom, she worked and played just as hard. When we lived in New Mexico, Mom had a large garden in our backyard, and she loved working in it. She once gave me a patch of dirt and said I could grow whatever I wanted, and I chose green beans. I wanted them to be the BEST green beans, so I watered them every day and let them grow and grow…they were huge. Mom knew they were past their prime, but she still helped me snap off the ends and cheerfully ate them anyway – strings like rope and all.
After all three girls finally left home, I think Mom and Daddy initially felt some of that empty nest syndrome. They seemed to get over it fairly quickly, and they enjoyed several trips to Napa Valley and told great stories about wine dinners and the people they met. After 50 years together, they still had more fun with each other than with anyone else.
On my 30th birthday, Mom sent me this email:
“We want to wish you a happy birthday! Seems like only yesterday that we brought you home from the hospital! What are you doing for your birthday? Going out for some dinner somewhere? We are having a tasty glass of Schramsberg Cremant in your honor right now! Thanks for having a birthday!”Mom knew how to have fun.
Lesson #3: Make a difference in the life of a child.
Judging from all the emails, cards and artwork we received from Mom’s students, she made a difference in many, many lives. Of course, the biggest impact was in the lives of her daughters and grandchildren. It was pretty amazing to watch Mom transform into Grandma when her first grandbaby, Caroline, was born. She took on this new job with gusto. Alicia told me when Mom first heard that she was going to be a grandma, her response was, “Hot dog, hot dog, hot dog!”
Her enthusiasm for grandparenting had no equal, and she was happy to do whatever she could to help us. She taught her granddaughters to read in “Grandma School”, and her house is full of children’s books. I mean, we have more children’s books than most small town libraries.
When my son Macklin was born, she came to Chicago and spent one of his first weeks with us. It was the first one-on-one time I had with Mom in a long time, and she was the one to convince me motherhood was not an insurmountable challenge. She kept repeating, “You can do this.” It was a wonderful week, and I cried my eyes out when she left. She did, too. (A family with seven girls – we’re a weepy bunch.)
Later she sent me another email:
“I really enjoyed myself—just sitting there visiting with you and Charles and Macklin. I especially enjoyed loving on Macklin. He is a wonderful baby, Honey, and you and Charles are going to love having him in your life. Pretty soon you will wonder what you did with your time before he came into your life. Children make our hearts grow; mine surely has. I love that little boy like he was my own.”Take the time to make a difference in the life of a child. There’s no better investment in our future than to invest in theirs.
Undoubtedly everyone in this room has felt the impact of the last two years. Perhaps it changed your view of the world and of your place in it. It certainly did for me. I can say without reservation that I am a better wife, mother, sister, and daughter today than I was before, because of what Mom taught me throughout life, and especially in the last two years. She was the epitome of strength, determination, and love even on her worst days.
To close, I would like to ask everyone to use this experience to remember Judy’s lessons, her passion for learning and reaching high, and to honor her motto:
Start now! Stay Focused! Finish strong!
I love you, Mom.
Monday, December 23
Obituary
Judy Carol Whitley Worrell passed away at the age of 69 on Thursday, December 19, after a courageous 22-month journey through cancer. Her loving spirit is carried on by her daughters, sons-in-law, grandchildren, her parents and brother, and especially by her adored and adoring husband, Kenneth Worrell. Inseparable from the moment they met in 1962, Judy and Ken spent 49 years of marriage in service to their country throughout their long careers in public education and the United States Air Force, respectively.
A graduate of Benvenue High School and UNC-CH, Judy started her award-winning career in teaching in Selma, Alabama, and followed Ken’s military posts in Nevada, California, New Mexico, Virginia, and Texas. During Ken’s time in Vietnam, Judy cared for her young daughters in Rocky Mount and kept him entertained with news from home through loving letters in her immaculate cursive. A much-beloved English teacher for almost four decades, Judy had an unmatched gift for words, both written and spoken in her soft North Carolina accent.
We were blessed to learn many lessons from Judy, our favorite teacher, over her 69 years:
A service to honor Judy was held at Bluebonnet Hills Funeral Home in Colleyville, Texas, at 3 PM on Monday, December 23. In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to "The Judy Worrell Memorial Fund" at the American Airlines Credit Union, which will be used to establish a scholarship fund for graduates of North Richland Middle School where Judy taught for over 20 years.
A graduate of Benvenue High School and UNC-CH, Judy started her award-winning career in teaching in Selma, Alabama, and followed Ken’s military posts in Nevada, California, New Mexico, Virginia, and Texas. During Ken’s time in Vietnam, Judy cared for her young daughters in Rocky Mount and kept him entertained with news from home through loving letters in her immaculate cursive. A much-beloved English teacher for almost four decades, Judy had an unmatched gift for words, both written and spoken in her soft North Carolina accent.
We were blessed to learn many lessons from Judy, our favorite teacher, over her 69 years:
Buy American whenever you can.Judy is survived by her beloved husband, Kenneth; their daughters Alicia (husband Scott Probasco, and daughters Caroline, Catherine and Mary Claire), Jennifer (partner Peter Mack), and Sara (husband Charles Berg, and son Macklin); her parents, Paul David and Bertha Mae Whitley; her brother, Paul R. Whitley; sister-in-law Christine Shirley Anderson; and many family members and friends in North Carolina and Texas. Judy was welcomed into Heaven with open arms by her sweet in-laws, Thurston and Gertrude Worrell.
Rides are best in a Cadillac with deep leather seats and piano music in the CD player.
A proper breakfast includes a grande skinny Starbucks vanilla latte.
Naps are best when taken in your comfy burgundy leather chair in front of the television.
It’s fun to chat with strangers, whether you are in line at the grocery store, on the subway in New York City, or enjoying a nice glass of zinfandel at a picnic table in Napa Valley. New friends are everywhere, and old friends are the best.
It’s easy to make a huge difference in the life of child: Read to them, cook their favorite foods, listen to their every story, and fill their life with music. Throw your arms open wide to wrap them in a hug every time a child walks in the room. Hold them to high standards, and know they will rise to the occasion. Love them when they fall and help them get back up again.
Take time to notice the sunset and smell the roses.
A service to honor Judy was held at Bluebonnet Hills Funeral Home in Colleyville, Texas, at 3 PM on Monday, December 23. In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to "The Judy Worrell Memorial Fund" at the American Airlines Credit Union, which will be used to establish a scholarship fund for graduates of North Richland Middle School where Judy taught for over 20 years.
Friday, December 20
Service details
The visitation to honor Judy Worrell will be this Sunday, December 22, from 2 to 4 PM at
Bluebonnet Hills in Colleyville.
The service will be at Bluebonnet Hills on Monday, December 23, at 3 PM.
A private family ceremony for interment at the Dallas-Fort Worth National Cemetery will be held at a later date.
The family is requesting no flowers, please. Instead, we created a scholarship fund in Mom's name, which would make her very happy. For those who wish to donate and honor Mom, the American Airlines Credit Union is accepting memorial donations to "The Judy Worrell Memorial Fund." The credit union can be reached at (800) 533-0035 or at their flagship location:
AA Credit Union Flagship Branch
4151 Amon Carter Blvd.
Fort Worth, TX
76155
We will arrange an online form for donations as well.
The service will be at Bluebonnet Hills on Monday, December 23, at 3 PM.
A private family ceremony for interment at the Dallas-Fort Worth National Cemetery will be held at a later date.
The family is requesting no flowers, please. Instead, we created a scholarship fund in Mom's name, which would make her very happy. For those who wish to donate and honor Mom, the American Airlines Credit Union is accepting memorial donations to "The Judy Worrell Memorial Fund." The credit union can be reached at (800) 533-0035 or at their flagship location:
AA Credit Union Flagship Branch
4151 Amon Carter Blvd.
Fort Worth, TX
76155
We will arrange an online form for donations as well.
Home at last
Judy Carol Whitley Worrell
September 20, 1944 - December 19, 2013
Our mom, Judy Worrell,
passed away last night at 5 pm. God and all his angels lit the heavens
and welcomed her home with an amazing party, starting with this sunset
that darkened to a star-filled sky with a full moon and Jupiter brightly
shining. We're relieved she's at peace. Although our hearts are broken,
we're grateful to all of you who followed her journey here on the blog. It's been a source of comfort and strength to all of us. Your comments, emails, posts to Facebook, calls and visits have kept us going.
In lieu of flowers, we're requesting that those who wish to honor Mom consider donating to a memorial fund in her name. We will be endowing a scholarship for graduates of Mom's beloved North Richland Middle School and Richland High School.
Details on the scholarship fund, as well as on the funeral service, will be posted later today or tomorrow.
Love to you all.
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