Yesterday, September 5th, 2015, we laid my great-grandma to rest. I was the MC and the person to give our thanks to those that attended and the eulogy speech. Here’s what I said, through all my tears and sobs:
Thank you all for coming to celebrate the life of the late Sally. I’m her great-granddaughter, Krysti, oldest of four. I remember spending a lot of my childhood at the house with Minoru, her late husband, Sally, and Michael, her son. They used to babysit me and watch me while my parents were at work. I would go on walks around the block with Minoru, and Sally would be waiting for our return, usually outside in the garage.
Huh, it’s weird to call her Sally; I’ve called her grandma since I could talk. I guess it’s weirder that I can’t go over and see her sitting in her chair, watching TV. It’s weird that from now on, when I go to pick lychee, she won’t be standing by the window calling out, “Look! Over there, get more! Plenty more up there, Michael.” And of course, Michael calling back that, “it’s too high!” Instead of sharing the first pickings with her, she’ll be sharing our pickings with Minoru.
Even through all her loving moments, you know there were those moments she would just drive you nuts. Like, “Michael, do this! I told you to do that!” “Krysti, I’m not scolding you, but…,” “Jeri, I said leave that alone.”
She was a proud woman you know. Proud of her family and all the accomplishments, no matter how small or insignificant we thought it was. If she knew you, and your name was mentioned somewhere or your picture made the paper, you could bet she cut them out and showed me. Your cards and postcards, heck, your Christmas cards of “Happy Holidays” she’d show me. She’d talk about you and how much you’ve grown. In High School, I was part of the Marching Band. Every Christmas, we’d participate in the Honolulu City Lights Parade, and every year, she’d watch it on the news. The next day, I’d get a call, saying how well I had done and if she saw me go past the cameras.
There’s so many memories with Sally. Picking lychee, or before Minoru passed, Sally and him would be in their garden either picking weeds, tending to their flowers, or picking soybeans. We would watch the SyFi channel, or Travel channel, and those old Japanese dramas. I think one of my favorite shows to watch with her was The Price Is Right, with Bob Barker.
There’s so many more memories I planned to make with Sally. So many more opportunities to say, “I love you,” and “see you later!” So many more times to, to just feel her warmth from hugs and cheek kisses. But, I know that Sally will always live on, in our hearts and memories.
Trying to summarize her life up in just a few paragraphs, a few minutes; it’s hard. I mean, she was kinda shy but outspoken, soft but firm. She was very loving, and while she loved to boast about others, she was always humble and didn’t say much about herself. She wasn’t a fan of pictures, which I wish she was. I’m always either behind or in front of a camera, trying to capture moments. To have a moment preserved forever.
Everyone of you that are here today, I know meant a lot to Sally. And I thank you, she thanks you, for coming. I know that her and Minoru are happily smiling down on us, glad we got together to say our goodbyes; to say our, I’ll see you later’s.
We’ll miss her forever, love her for always.
And now, I believe that it’s time for us, if you would please join us right outside, to lay Sally to rest, beside her beloved Minoru, where they will forever rest in peace together.
It’s hard to believe that she’s gone. It’s hard to believe I said goodbye; that I hope to see her later. It’s hard to let go. She was a lot like a mother to me, taking care of me a lot of my childhood and helping to raise me. I know now that she’s in a better place, and reunited again with her husband, whom I know she missed very much.
I’ll see you guys around sometime soon. I haven’t posted much because I was preparing for the funeral and my mind was just all over. Hopefully now that it’s done, my anxiety will be okay and I’ll be able to focus better and get back into the groove of things.