Maude Patin

Maude Patin. August-25,1927- Sept-17, 2011

My Mum passed away, last Saturday, Sept 17th  at 84 years old. I have no words that can adequately sum up everything I feel right now, so I will share the eulogy that I gave at her service.

“I would like you all to know how much your love and support meant to my Mother because as you know her family and friends were the most important thing in her life.

She was genuinely interested in everything we did and usually checked in to see how we were doing it as often as possible. She worried about us much more than we’ll ever know and never fully believed we knew how to drive in the rain.

She only ever wanted the very best for us. She was so proud of us and she always believed that whatever happened, in the end, we’d do well. She never failed to tell you that she loved and cared for you deeply, every chance she had.

She was generous to a fault and gave away every shirt she ever owned off her back. She never forgot your birthday and to send you a card, often weeks in advance. She loved giving and having big parties with plenty of everything, for everyone. She kept little presents on hand for her love ones, not for any special occasion but just for the joy of seeing our surprise.

She loved seeing in the New Year with us, dancing the jitterbug and doing Knees up Mother Brown (It’s a British thing- a bit hard to explain),loved Easter Egg hunts with big money prizes hidden in the plastic eggs, 4th of July barbecues, huge Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners (always ate with a silly paper hat on) and she especially loved giving out the most candy in the entire neighborhood on Halloween, usually dressed as a witch.

I know she wouldn’t want us to remember her and be sad but instead to remember all the laughs and fun we had together:

The jokes she loved to tell, she’d ring you up and say “You wanna hear a joke”, usually a dirty one, and then of course Mum would totally mangle it and invariably forget the ending!  She loved getting risque birthday cards from her sister in England, a tradition passed down from Mum’s mum who would send her naughty postcards from Brighton Beach.

She would want us to remember the awful names she’d call us, (like bollocks chops and Dirty Dick) and the twinkle in her eye as she shot us the bird.

And most of all she would want us to  be happy and especially always to love and to take care of each other”.

My Mum was one of a kind, never to be replaced or repeated and I miss her so much.

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