Sullivan Financial Advisors

My Mother passed away this last New Year's Day. The following is the tribute/eulogy that was written and presented by my daughter Kelly at my Mother's memorial service. This story is more than just about my Mom...

                   ... it is really a tribute to Moms everywhere.

Thanks for reading. Feel free to pass it along.

A Tribute to Marjie
Speaker’s notes – January 9, 2011
 
“Old age is not for sissies.”  Grandma’s sister Joyce made her a cross-stitched plaque with that saying – as kind of a joke – for her 51st birthday.  But Joyce was right, and that plaque hung proudly on her wall because Marjie was no sissy.
 
Thank you again for being here today.  My name is Kelly Sullivan Noah.  My father, Tom, is Marjie’s middle son.  I am honored to have been asked to speak a bit about Marjie on behalf of the family.
 
Marjorie June Peterson was born on June 30, 1923 and spent the next 87 ½ years touching lives.  She was known by many names over those years: June, Grandma New Knees, The Purple Lady, or – most often – Marjie.  Always having lengthy last names, she dropped the ‘O-R’ in Marjorie and found it much easier to write just six letters: M-A-R-J-I-E in the bottom of her ceramics.  You may have known her as a Peterson, a Sullivan, a Prestin, or a Williamson, but she often simply called herself a ‘stubborn Swede.’
 
Marjie was proud of her family.  With five children and a host of grand- and great-grandchildren, she always knew something about the current happenings of each household.  I don’t think she knew a game I would play with her: sometimes I would say something a bit…constructive…about a family member in private to her, just because I knew she’d respond by telling me all of their best qualities.  She thought they all had plenty, and it was so fun to listen to her praise.  Her idea of family didn’t stop at her descendents, or with her siblings and their descendents; it extended to members of her husbands’ families, additions we married or otherwise brought into the fold, and shirttail relatives of all sorts…she welcomed them all and filled walls and shelves with photos from over the years.  She was especially pleased when her sister Twila and Twila’s husband Bill moved to her building at Copperfield last year.
 
Marjie was well-known for her sense of style.  She was rarely seen not fully-coordinated: jewelry, watches, and shoes carefully chosen from her substantial collection to complement her outfit.  Most often, she’d be head-to-toe in her signature purple, but she was well-equipped to match every holiday or event as well.  Personally, I found her to be particularly stunning in a certain shade of teal.
 
Her love of things she found beautiful extended into her hobbies.  Before all things purple were easy to find in stores, she would sew clothing and make accessories in her favorite hues.  She crafted so many types of things over the years, and loved to share them.  You may well likely have a quilt, or a ceramic, or a stack of greeting cards created by her hands.  And she never shied away from shopping for lovely things…I think she knew every unique or discount store in the state of Arizona, and loved searching the aisles for treasures at the dollar and craft stores here.
 
When not in pursuit of things pretty or purple, Marjie had plenty of other hobbies to keep her busy.  She played a sharp game of cards, whether penny games with her friends in Glendale, or the 1:00 Monday game of 500 at Copperfield.  She loved to dance, first with her friends in the Cupid Club – a group of girls from high school she never lost track of – then until her knees and partners could no longer keep up.  She had a love of travel, often sharing stories of flying to Hawaii, visiting family around the country, or taking the bus from Glendale to Vegas.  When home in the quiet, artists like Dino were often on the stereo, and there would be plenty of newspapers and novels within arm’s reach.
 
But all of these things Marjie did can’t define who Marjie was.  Marjie was fiercely independent.  She talked so proudly of her days working full-time at Graco.  She thrived in that environment, often reliving receiving gifts from her boss’ wife, or being the only woman invited to join the men at Broadway Pizza.  Those were the days she patiently saved Kennedy half-dollars, knowing Mother Bergstrom at Bergstrom Jewelers collected them and would give Marjie a fair price for jewelry bought with her own hard-earned coins.
 
While Marjie often talked about the parts of life that weren’t easy, she also spoke often of her gratitude for things that were good.  She accepted both, using the phrase ‘one day at a time.’  As Pastor Seri shared, faith was an important part of her days.
 
Marjie valued connecting with others.  During her years in Arizona, she often hosted family and friends, took summer vacations back to Minnesota, and kept the keys on her special script typewriter hot with cards and letters.  Not stopping at humans, she connected with dogs as well.  Companions like Angel, Special, and KC were part of her Arizona days, and when she was a guest in someone’s home, their dogs were sure to be drawn to her lap.  They must have recognized her unique spirit.
 
That spirit was one of fortitude as well.  In her early years of motherhood, she made the best of her home…adding a feature such as indoor plumbing as each child came along.  When her knees needed replacing, she persuaded two doctors to operate simultaneously, her high tolerance for pain far exceeding their expectations.  She cared for two of her husbands through their final illnesses.  These past months, we were all humbled but not surprised by the courage she used to face each changing day.  Her primary concern was with how her situation was impacting others’ lives.  Her faith and inner strength combined with visits and calls and letters and cards from loved ones as she took life and death – in her words – ‘one day at a time.’
 
After all, Marjie was no sissy.