A Son's Eulogy for his Mother

[A month ago today - Monday, December 28, 2015 -- we celebrated the funeral Mass for my mother, Helen DeLorenzo, who passed away December 19th. I'm still trying to get my act together, but I wanted to share the eulogy I delivered at her ceremony. I miss her every day. Thank you for your consideration.]

Good morning.

Thank you for presence today as we honor the memory of Helen
Grace DeLorenzo.

Bernadette and I were blessed to have a great mother, and we were blessed to have her in our lives for as long as we did.

Mom raised us to be good Catholics, and set a good example for us, here in this very church and in this Parish. She was active behind the scenes at Incarnation School while we were students there, active in the PTA, planning special events for the children of Incarnation School, even serving as a Den Mother for Incarnation’s Cub Scouts Pack 26. She was also an active member of the Incarnation Parish Council for many years, and helped raise funds for this parish on numerous occasions.

She was active earlier in her life in the Mother Seton Guild, and the Central Association of the Miraculous Medal, and believed devoutly in the power of prayer, especially to the Virgin Mary and Saint Jude.

In a conversation the other day, my brother-in-law Bob Breithaupt used the phrase, “How did we get here?”

How DID we get here?

Howard Smith was born in Pocopson, Pennsylvania, a little town half-way between Chadds Ford and West Chester. At some point, he moved to the Trenton area. He served in the U.S. Army in World War One, fighting in the trenches in France. We have a commemorative bayonet from one of the battles he served in at home.

Our maternal great grandparents immigrated to the Trenton area from Ireland early in the 20th Century. Ellen and Martin Murphy raised a small family in Trenton, including their daughter, our maternal grandmother Helen Murphy. Family tradition is that our grandmother Helen met our grandfather Howard after World War One when she was working behind the lunch counter at the Jigger Shop in Lawrenceville.

Howard and Helen Smith had two daughters. Elizabeth Smith was born May 27, 1929 in New Brunswick. Helen Smith, was born March 21, 1931 in Red Bank. At some point they were here in Trenton again, and despite the Great Depression and World War Two, we know that they had happy childhoods and did well in school, Elizabeth graduating from Trenton High in 1947, Helen graduating from Cathedral in 1949.

Our paternal grandparents, Maria DiFillipis and Pasquale DeLorenzo immigrated from Northern Italy to the Trenton area sometime in the early 20th Century. They had 12 children, including Vincent “Jimmie” DeLorenzo.

Jimmie left high school sometime in 1942 to help run the family’s tomato pie business when some of his older brothers went into the service for World War Two. Later, he himself went into the Army, but the war was coming to an end, so he was stationed at Fort Dix for his service. He came back to help in the family business, but with so many brothers trying to work in a then-new location at 530 Hudson Street, there wasn’t enough room. Like his brothers Pat and Rick, he tried his hand at another location, in Hopewell. Then he helped a friend at his local camera shop, and was recalled into the Army at the start of the Korean War, again stationed in Fort Dix. When he came back from his second stint in the army, Jimmie opened his own camera shop, at 512 and ? Hudson Street, “Jimmie’s Camera Shop.”

He was introduced to Helen Smith by mutual friends. They started dating, and became engaged to be married. Jimmie’s mother and Helen’s mother had briefly worked for the same company – working on the lines at the Lee Pants Factory – but never met until their children became engaged. Our mom and dad married in October, 1959. They moved in with Helen’s mother and sister, in Ewing Township.

In April 1962, I was born. In May 1964, Bernadette was born. Also in May 1964 we moved into a house on Bayberry Road in Ewing Township, and became members of this parish.

How did we get here?

I think it’s safe to say that Bernadette and I never wanted for anything; we had a great childhood. We had three women looking after us – Elizabeth, Maw (our grandmother),and Mom. Mom was a full-time mother – Elizabeth, Maw and Dad all worked, Liz and Maw for the State of New Jersey, Dad in the camera shop.

Mom got us ready for school, she got us ready for events, she planned trips and vacations. She took care of a big house. She took care of her husband, her mother, her sister, and her two children. She cooked all her meals, and, as Jean Shepherd said so well, “she never had a hot meal for herself.”

She was strong. She was a talented artist, working in paint and charcoal. She had many interests in all the arts. She found ways to get lessons in so many things for Bernadette and me over our childhood. She encouraged our activities in school, and wanted only the best for us.

She was a private woman, soft-spoken, but she loved to laugh. She loved to plan family vacations for me, Bernadette and Dad. It started small and local – the Old Barracks, Atlantic City, Wildwood Crest. Lancaster. Gettysburg. Then moving outward, to the Catskills, the Poconos, Lake George, Williamsburg, New York City, Washington, D.C., Disney World. Niagara Falls. Boston. Hilton Head Island. Bermuda. San Francisco. Los Angeles.

Mom became a great fan of football, basketball and baseball in the late 1970s, first when I was at Notre Dame High School, and then when I was at Villanova University.

At some point, Dad started coming to the games, too. It was a ritual I grew to love, seeing them in the stands at each home game. I knew where they were, they knew where I was – we could keep an eye on each other.

She was a very funny person, too. She was the woman who got me hooked watching Johnny Carson when I was eight years old, knowing that I loved to laugh as much as she did. We shared a love of comedy and humor. Mom took me to the Trenton Book Shop for my 10th birthday to get a copy of what was an “adult” Jean Shepherd book as a present, much to the astonishment of the salesman.

It is a lasting memory of my relationship with mom that no matter what, I could make her laugh. Even in our last conversation the night before she passed away, I got a laugh out of her about something. And she could make me laugh, too.

Whenever she took us anywhere, she would say to us, “Now, look around you.”

Mom spent countless hours in cars driving Bernadette and me to Notre Dame sports events, and even more hours traveling to see Villanova and Immaculata play their games. She spent hours finding obscure comic book shops for me, or taking Bernadette to dances. I can still remember Mother’s Day 1981, when she drove me from Villanova to Seton Hall for a college baseball doubleheader in South Orange and sat in the stands for hours while the Wildcats played.

The woman never stopped. Even after her beloved sister, Elizabeth, left us earlier this year, there was a strong will to keep their house going, get work done, and get ready for the next big event. Fortunately, Bernadette and Michael could care for her in their home the past few months, and she could spend a little more time with her beloved grandchildren, Christopher and Erin. She took great joy in their lives, and with their success in school and in school activities.

Look around you.

How did we get here?

There is a Catholic hymn, which I learned to sing right up there in that choir loft, entitled “Faith of Our Fathers.” It is also the Faith of Our Mothers. Our mother’s faith, Helen DeLorenzo’s faith, her faith in God, in the Church, in her family, and in her children. She had faith, and she taught Bernadette and me in that faith.

This was a tough Christmas for Bernadette and her family, and for me and Janice. But I have faith that it was a great Christmas for our mother. She was reunited with her beloved sister Elizabeth, who passed away in April. She was with my father, who passed away in April 2009. She was with her mother, who passed away on this date in 1983. And she was with her father, who passed away in 1959. And she caught up with all the beloved members of the Murphy, Smith, Commini, Santitore, Stia, Petersack, Bresnan, Durritt, Dovgala, Yannuzelli, Breithaupt, Burns and DeLorenzo families that have passed before us in this life. And if we believe in our faith, then we know HER faith was rewarded.

How did we get here?

Look around you.

Mom, you were loved by us all, and will always be loved by us. You will be missed, but you will not be forgotten. Thank you for all you did for us.

I will conclude today with a phrase that my dear mother and I shared with each other each time we said good bye. It’s stolen from the great comedians Bob and Ray. At the close of their radio show, they would say, “Write if you get work, and hang by your thumbs.” It always made Mom laugh. So, Mom – “write if you get work. And hang by your thumbs.”