Louise Alena Abbott

Eulogy by Louise A. (Wilder) Abbott's son Stephen:

I thank you for interrupting your lives to say goodbye to Louise. Death is always an unkind interruption.

It’s been said:

“Termination of activity, cessation from movement and opinion, and in a sense, death, is no evil. Turn your thoughts now to the consideration of your life, your life as a child, as a youth, your adulthood, your old age, for in these also, every change was a death. Is this anything to fear? In like manner, then, neither are the termination and cessation and change of your whole life a thing to be afraid of.”

It has been 70 generations since the philosopher Marcus Aurelius - who’s part-time job was ruling the Roman Empire - wrote these words. That’s seventy sets of parents who passed along, generation to generation, their values, ideals, and knowledge.

We are all products of our parents’ upbringing. Louise was a product of her mother, and I was of mine.

My mother taught me to be inquisitive, to love history, to read the dusty books that dusty old philosophers wrote so long ago. It was my mother who insisted I learn something about our early American history as we drove up and down the eastern coast, a love of history that never stopped growing.

She taught Sunday School. She was a den mother, and got me off to school on time every day. I went on to be a Boy Scout, and an Eagle Scout, thanks to her encouragement. There, I repaid her by introducing her to a passion she didn’t know she had - a passion for genealogy and family history.

It was deeply ironic that I, who was welcomed into my parents’ home in such an unconventional way, sparked this passion for family history. It opened vistas that she didn’t know even existed, and she rediscovered family members and their stories that were long forgotten in the pages of time.

It also changed her. The housewife that had quit her job at Jordan Marsh to take care of an infant, and stayed at home through his high school education, found the strength and nerve to jump in a van in Florida and drive to Nova Scotia to attend a family reunion. It drove my father crazy, but he got over it when she safely returned, filled with interesting stories, charts and photos.

But mother was really always a strong-willed woman, as you all know. She never had a problem expressing an opinion to her son or to her husband of 44 years, and also passed that trait onto me.

She expressed her creativity in many ways. Through her acrylic art, which often expressed her love for her native New England. And through her flower arranging and her involvement in garden clubs.

Her strength was expressed also in her four-year health battle that finally claimed her last weekend . Her optimism and bravery surely extended her life long beyond that which others felt she was entitled.

She ignored death’s call as long as she could. She leaves us with gray hair, not the sparkle of unfulfilled youth. She didn’t live long enough for us, but she lived, and we won’t soon forget that.

And now, she is not in this room with us. She is not here - she is elsewhere, making the journey to meet those ancestors whom she rediscovered in life, winning a reward and a respit from her sufferings and pain.

The spirit endures forever, and memories remain as long as they are kept alive by those who shared them, and, in turn, share them with others.

I would urge each and every one of you to cherish your life as she cherished hers. Don’t put off visits to old friends, eat meals with family as much as you can, and make every moment count.

Surely there are regrets, and we all have them. But I’m happy that we can join together here to celebrate a life well lived.