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Thank you all for coming. It’s a blessing to see so many friends here to celebrate our Mother. Mary Katherine Griest Dawson, also known as “Trink”, Trinkie, Mom, and “M”, was both a character and a woman of character. She was opinionated, sassy, spunky, and a little impatient. She was a devoted wife in a difficult marriage, and a patient, supportive and loving mother to her three children – one a musician, one an artist, and one who could teach Martha Stewart a few things. When she wasn’t raising a family, she was either working at a paying job, or volunteering her time and skills for religious, political or charitable causes. She never quite “got” that retirement was supposed to be a time to not work, and to take time for herself... Maybe it was just that she liked being involved (or was it “in control”?)... Like her father, she liked to “have her finger on the indicator”... She had a playful sense of humor. Some of you know of the Dawson tradition of referring to each other by initials, originally derived from… let’s call them “creative” names we gave each other. Mom readily joined in, and even set an example for another unique Dawsonian tendency –that of reconstituting certain words in the English language. She taught us, for example, to “wuxercise”, and that if we got sick to go to a “hostible”. And she rolled with the punches, like the time when John left a message on her office answering machine, doing a perfect Henry Kissinger immitation, and the company officers were all freaking out that Kissinger wanted to talk to them... She simply responded, “Oh no! My kids are at it again!” She was a perceptive and keen observer of people, and an insightful counselor when it came to relationships. We never stopped going to her for advice. She inherited her father’s business sense, and was an uncanny and astute investor over the years. Her friends described her as “A Great Lady” and “A good friend”. One wrote to us in a card, “I want to tell you how much I loved and admired your mother. She was a really solid person, with a wonderful sense of humor. In addition, her faith, her values and her attitude toward life were admirably healthy and rock solid.” We’re still finding out things about Mom we didn’t know. Her God-Daughter, Debi Turley, reveals something of the woman Mom was in a remembrance she asked us to read for her, since she couldn’t be here today. She writes: I have few chldhood memories of my Aunt Trink. I knew she was my godmother, and I knew she lived in strange and faraway places. I guess I mostly thought of her as an exotic world traveler! I was sure she and Bill were being hosted by the great leaders of the world at state dinners every night! Trink used to send letters to my mom, describing the winter months living in a house without central heat in England. I don’t know whether she actually wore heavy winter coats and gloves 24 hours a day, but that’s how I pictured her! One think I knew for sure - I held a special place in her heart. She told me that, on my birthday every year, she bought a pearl, and that someday, when she had enough of them, she would have the pearls made into a necklace. Well, the necklace never came. But one day, when I was living away from my family attending seminary, a letter arrived from Trink. She told me how thrilled she was that I was going to become a pastor. And she said it was time to have the pearls made into something wonderful for me. I chose a ring, she chose a jeweler, and I waited in suspense. One day, a package arrived. I opened it and was speechless when I unwrapped a beautiful, white gold ring which held a row of pearls and four sapphires. I wear that ring often, and every time I see it I think of Aunt Trink, who so lovngly selected every part of that ring for me. Trink was there, again, but in person this time, on the day when I was ordained. It took me a long time and lots of life experience to understand that God was calling me into ministry. I guess you could say I was a late bloomer! But once the Spirit caught hold of my heart, there was no turning back. Trink faithfully kept in touch by e-mail as I spent 4 years in seminary, much of that time away from my family. She swore that she would be there when I was ordained, and sure enough, she was. She presented me with the most exquisite gift - a Communion set with my name engraved on it. I use that set often as I take the sacrament to peoples’ homes and hospital beds. And every time I use it, I think of Trink. Her own faith and her need to receive Jesus’ body and blood, with all the promises that come with it, have forever bound her heart to mine. I know she is there, to receive that meal with me, and I thank God for her companionship. Trink’s humor, her sarcasm and her wry smile will stay with me as I remember the times we shared. She was one no-nonsense lady who faced life straight on. She had some challenges along the way, that’s for sure. But she was never defeated by them, she never lost hope. She was a model of patience and perseverence for me. I will miss you, Aunt Trink. But I know that you will never again have to endure a cold night or a day prolonged by pain. And I know that we will see each other again, when we are all guests at our Lord’s banquet feast. I hope we get to sit next to each other! Until that day, I will live in hope and confidence in Jesus’ promises. And every time I put your ring on my finger, every time I raise the paten and the tiny silver chalice you gave me, every time I proclaim God’s love and grace, I will think of you. May God hold you close in his heart, and may God bless all of us as we wait for the day he comes to take us home. I love you, Debi What a remarkable woman mom was….strong, brave, full of faith, hope, and charity. She grew up in a small town; daughter of a wholesale grocer and a homemaker. She adored her parents and worshiped her brother George. Mom followed in her mother’s footsteps by attending Goucher College in the 40’s. She graduated in 1947 with a degree in political science and landed her first job in Baltimore in the office of Public Welfare. Marriage and children followed. As my father’s career advanced, he joined the Foreign Service and it wasn’t long before Mom was thrust into the world of a diplomat’s wife. A fairy tale life in many respects, this small town girl experienced travel to far off places, lavish housing, household help, fancy parties, world dignitaries. As a diplomat’s wife in England, Mom was presented to the Queen. I remember her practicing her curtsey in the living room and giggling as the hoop skirt of her 1960’s ball gown stood up around her as she curtseyed down into the middle of it. Last week I read a letter she sent home to her parents about her experience at Buckingham Palace and her excitement just jumped off the pages. But with the fairly tales came a life full of challenges. Her mother suffered numerous heart attacks and was bedridden for significant amounts of time during mom’s growing up. The role of a diplomat’s wife is hard, requiring more give than take: finely honed social and political skills, endless social obligations, entertaining on short notice. While overseas she was far from her parents and homeland for years. She suffered the tragic death of her only brother at the prime of his life. She had an often trying marriage, and as you all know, there were numerous medical challenges. As her children got older mom fought my father to return to the workforce. Dad was old fashioned and not at all pleased with the prospect. But mom wanted more from life and wanted to contribute all that she could. She worked a few jobs and eventually landed at Aztech Corporation, a data processing firm specializing in the Association community. She was there 14 years and during that time she took college courses in accounting, learned computer skills, became office manager and eventually director of administration. And she introduced me to the Association field…something I still do too many years later. Mom tried retirement but it never sat well with her. She went on in years to work for Bob DuPont, and at the time of her death she worked as a bookkeeper for the Md/Dc/Va chapter of ALS a group she got involved with after her friend Betty Ann Krahnke contacted the disease. That job meant so much to her. To be making a contribution, to be gainfully employed at her age, and to be doing something worthwhile…she just lit up when she talked about it. In 1987 Mom had emergency surgery for a heart aneurism that landed her in intensive care for six weeks and resulted in the loss of her leg. At 62 she had to learn to walk all over again. Not long after that she had surgery for a brain tumor. But it’s mom’s volunteer work that really stands out in my mind. Over the years she has given to her community in so many ways. She has been a volunteer at suburban hospital; she has served this church on numerous committees, at the Opportunity Shop, as treasurer of the parish, etc. She volunteered for Connie Morella and Bette Ann Krahnke’s campaigns and she volunteered at ALS before being employed there. She stuffed envelopes, produced newsletters, counted money, and organized events. When mom moved to Asbury Methodist Village, she three herself into the community with gusto. She enjoyed exercise classes, an investment club, computer club, cruises, trips to the Kennedy Center, and so much more. She became active in various committees and became chairperson of her building and treasurer of the continuing education program there. And her family. She was devoted to us kids. I think we had a typical mother-daughter relationship. She could do the mother guilt thing; I could do the daughter neglect thing—she was opinionated about my life but didn’t want to interfere; I was opinionated about her life but thought she was too stubborn to change. In short, it was a typical mother daughter relationship. Sometimes I wish we had been closer—but as an adult I think she was an ideal. She cared but didn’t interfere. She was always there when you needed her. She was not demanding but loved attention when it was given. None of us were the doctors, lawyers or Indian chiefs most mothers want, but she was always proud of our achievements—whatever they were--she loved us unconditionally. And we knew it. In the last weeks of her life, mom kept up her sense of humor and continued to make me so proud. She was transferred from Shady Grove hospital to Baltimore. When the medivac nurses put an oxygen mask on her, she made a funny face with bulging eyes and puffy cheeks that sent me into giggles. Even then she was trying to make US feel better. In Baltimore we were briefing her nurse on her history and lifestyle and the nurse just couldn’t believe how active and mobile mom was. “Wow, you wouldn’t believe how many amputees in their 50’s just give up and sit in a wheel chair, she said. And she simply was in awe that at 80 Mom still had all her own teeth! In Cleveland, one of the doctors was explaining how serious her condition was and the many risks she faced. Then, when asked if she was ready to go to the procedure room for the next set of tests she said “let’s rock.” Several years ago, I was applying for a job. I interviewed with the Executive Director of a nonprofit Society for which I eventually worked. During the interview I was asked if I had any heros…. I named two. My mother and a political figure my mother would not have approved of given she was a staunch Republican and I a Democrat. Why Mom? Because she chose to participate fully in life. She embraced people and good times, she loved being a part of something bigger, she met adversity head on and with courage and determination, and she was generous in giving back to her community. If I can pass along to my daughter just half the dignity, charity, strength, and composure, with which my mother lived her life; I will have succeeded. The things you learn about your Mom… that in high school she liked to eat hamburgers and French fries at midnight… that she wanted to be a wave (well, she married a navy man), that her sense of humor was a quality so many people remember about her. That she liked to giggle in church with her friend Helen (and when I was in church with her I always thought I had to be so Pius and correct!) As the cards and thoughts keep coming in to our family, the reoccurring theme is that mom was a smart woman of strength, humor, conviction, and principle. What a woman. I want to add my thanks to all of you for being here today, and for all the many expressions of sympathy and friendship. A special thanks to our friends in Voices XXI for being here today. It gave Mom great pleasure to support them and even travel with them to Europe, and I know she would be delighted that you’re here. The marker for Mom in the columbarium will say Mary Griest Dawson. Mom just went by Mary G. Dawson, but Todd argued ‘why make people guess what the 'G' stands for?’ and I liked using the name because I think it was important to who she was. Mom had a very special relationship with her father, George Griest, Sr. We’re pretty sure that her financial acumen came through his guidance, and probably her politics, and a lot of her character. Granny was great, too, but Granny was ‘Mother’ and he was ‘Daddy.’ She kept a picture of him on her desk, and I think he was always a presence and a guide in her life, even after he died. We celebrated Mom’s 80th birthday with her on Easter Sunday, March 27th. Beth commented at the time that Mom seemed a little subdued, and we talked about how she had been short of breath lately. We agreed that we’d follow up with her. In the meantime Mom wrote us a beautiful thank-you note for the little party at Normandy Farm, telling us how proud she was of us, and how she had just enjoyed sitting back and listening to our conversation. That Friday morning, she woke up with severe chest pains, and within two days we found ourselves in Cleveland, where our best hopes were for making her well. The doctors devised a plan involving two surgeries, and left it for the family to talk about, and for her to decide what she wanted to do. The one question she asked was ‘will I be able to return to a normal life?’ The truth is, Mom was scared at first. One of the first doctors to examine her had been brutally honest with her about her condition, and she understood that her life was in danger. BUT, as with other challenges in her life, she rather quickly reconciled herself to reality and accepted it, so that we all saw a remarkable calm in her after a certain point. One day she said “you know, I was so proud of myself for reaching my 80th birthday. I think God is telling me ‘uh uh, Dawson, I’m in charge.’ I told her I thought it was fine for her to be proud of reaching her 80th birthday. And I told her ‘I think I know someone else who would be proud of you, too, and that’s your daddy.” And she said “I think so, too.” So, let’s be happy for her, and celebrate her life. |
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