Bonnetta Dudley Memorial Service

Eulogy of Bonnetta Louise Bostic Dudley

04/12/1947 - 04/09/2020

How do you reduce someone's life story to a 5 minute speech? How do you effectively highlight the essence of a person - all the things that make them them in such a short time; especially for someone who lived as fully, gracefully, and devotedly as my mom? I figure that every eulogist in the history of time has struggled with this concept and I have a newfound appreciation for the delicacy of the web that I am about to weave.  

I could start off and tell you how my mom was born in Cleveland, OH in 1947 and how she was the oldest of six children. I could tell you how she graduated from East High School and then went on to graduate from Cleveland State University and then go on to have one helluva teacher career being a champion for children for the rest of her life. I could also talk about the love of her life and how they were together for forty years. I could tell you that her favorite color was blue, that she loved mushroom Swiss burgers, and made the best sweet potatoes and potato salad in the universe -- Just as Carlos or her birthday twin Mercedes. I could also tell you that she didn't surprise easy and could detect a surprise party a mile way. I could even talk about how my life will NEVER, ever be the same. How no one's life will ever be the same. How the world will never be the same without her in it and not for one minute would I be wrong. But somehow that would not be enough; somehow it could not possibly do her life - or her legacy justice. While any effort to properly memorialize my mom in anything less than the 72 years, 11 months, and 27 days she lived is destined to fail, I can confidently say that three qualities defined her more than any other; service, sacrifice, and devotion.

"I’ll love you forever,

I’ll like you for always,

As long as I’m living,

My baby you’ll be."

Before she was someone's sister, before she was someone's teacher, before she was someone's wife, before she was someone's mother, she was someone's first-born daughter. I'm told it wasn't the easiest childhood; they moved around quite a bit but ultimately they had what they needed and they were loved. She was part of a group of six siblings that aged as a unit for a little over 50 years until the death of my Aunt Connie about 5 years ago. While her relationship was obviously different with all of her siblings -- some closer than others, she most definitely loved and cared for each of them very much. I have vivid memories of my mom speaking to my aunt connie nightly while she was battling cancer. Her willingness to give and be of service to my aunt was most apparent when my mom dropped everything to fly to Camarillo with 4 hours notice and stayed with her, at her side until her passing.

Before she was someone's wife, or mother, she was an educator; a job that she took very seriously. She began teaching in the Cleveland school district in the early 1970's - way before I made my world debut and continued to teach and educate children's minds and spirits for literally the rest of her life. In the process she met some of our family's closest friends; Malaika Philips, Lena Fagan, and even worked with my Aunt Janice's sister Joyce for many, many years. Growing up there were times that I was jealous of how much time she spent nurturing the kids that she taught because I felt like her students were taking something away from me. Little did I realize then the impact she had on so many lives and how blessed I was to have an awesome mom to share with kids who may have had less than or felt less than. Children that may have been empowered to be more and do more as a result. One of her favorite students is a Registered Nurse today and Charlisa, I think that my mom would say that she is very very proud of all that you have been able to accomplish. I have a saying that my mom "died three days before her birthday, which was Easter Sunday." On that Easter Sunday that was to have been her 73rd birthday, one of my classmates sent me a message:

"Your mom touched a lot of lives. As I’m currently partaking in my church service on Zoom, someone just requested that the pastor pray for The Dudley family. I believe her husband's name is Mike, she mentioned your mom taught him in the 4th grade."

My response to Paula was:

"That's crazy, I mean kids don't really ever realize how boss their parents are. I mean I knew but I didn't KNOW."

I can't tell you the number of times my mom was stopped in the grocery store, at the mall, at the park by former students that recognized Mrs. Dudley and wanted to tell her what they were doing in life, introduce their kids to her or thank her for being in their corner when others were. And then there's them church babies. Not only did perform these modern, every-day acts of kindness, selflessness and devotion at work, she did it on the weekends too at St. Paul's Episcopal Church in East Cleveland before it finally shuttered its doors but then at St. Andrew's Episcopal Church as well. She ran the Vacation Bible School programs at both churches and was instrumental in their church school programs as well. 

Before she was a mother, she was a wife. My parents definitely had challenges like any other couple but stood the test of time -- over 40 years together. As they got older,

she angered a little easier, they bickered a little more but anyone could see from miles away or across the room how much they truly admired, loved, and adored each other. I can honestly say I only ever saw my mother cry twice in my life once out of sheer anger and once out of sheer joy. The first was in 2016 when my dad waived his extradition rights on bogus murder charges to Houston, Texas. The second was on board the Norwegian Escape when we surprised my parents with a Vow Renewal for their 40th wedding anniversary. She was utterly surprised and overcome with joy and emotion. I will admit the deviant in me was a little happy that I pulled a surprise on her because those didn't happen too often. Not too many people can say they made someone cry and were happy about it but I was that day. And i'm so happy she got to experience that day with so many of her close family and friends.

I know this one is going to be a little odd but we've got to keep the rhythm going here... before she was the gramma of a pup named Lyza Marie Minnelli Penelope Dudley, Esquire the 15th Jr. , she was my mom. And yes -- Lyza knew my mom was gramma and could be told to "go to 'Gramma'". One of the earliest memories I have of my mom is her reading me stories like "The Giving Tree", "Oh The Places You'll Go," and "Love You Forever by Robert Munsch where a mother rocks a young infant and sings:

I’ll love you forever,

I’ll like you for always,

As long as I’m living,

My baby you’ll be.

The infant grows into an adolescent youth; hates his mom, butts heads with her but ultimately still loves her very much. She shows him right from wrong, she makes sure he has the tools he has to succeed in life. Makes sure he goes to good schools like O.H. Perry Elementary where he runs into teachers like Lena Fagan and Joel Gulko. She even pays for him to go to Gilmour Academy all the way out in Gates Mills, OH because even though she was the best teacher the world had ever seen, The Cleveland Public schools were good enough for her baby. She took him to church at St. Paul's and made sure he loved and knew the Lord. She sent him to Saint Louis University and supported his many endeavors and it was in her death that he would ultimately find the calling to pick up a camera and make art in her name - to find Joy In the Mourning if you will.  My mom was so many different things to so many different people and I'm thankful to God for allowing us to have her for 72 years, 363 days.  

We all know that eventually we will leave this place, we may lose friends along the way, if our parents are lucky enough and we spare them the grief of burying their child, we will ultimately have to lose the people who have literally been in our lives longer than anyone else on earth. Some of us think about it more than others but eventually our time will come. For me and my mom, that time came on an uncharacteristically snowy not snowy April morning - a not-so-good-to-us Thursday, three days before Easter, which would have been her birthday." The last time we spoke she told me to make sure my dad knew where her clothes were because she was worried he wouldn't be able to find them and she would have clothes to wear home from the hospital because she just knew she was going to be home by Easter. There she goes again taking care of other people. My sister didn't sleep that well that night, neither did my dad and I woke up with chest pains, not knowing I was literally feeling my mom being torn away from me until the phone rang. A death so sudden; a death not on our time but the Lord's always leaves us with "what-ifs" and regrets of things left unsaid; actions not taken. I want us to all rejoice in the fact that my mom lived her life to the fullest, to the best of her ability and with no regrets. She left us to be with the Lord saying, as one of her favorite hymns says:

Here I am, Lord

Is it I, Lord?

I have heard You calling in the night

I will go, Lord

If You lead me

I will hold Your people in my heart

She loved all of us immensely and held each and every one of us in her heart. 

She came to me in a dream, shortly after her death; Smiling, long luxurious locks of hair, sitting in our kitchen on Reyburn road and told me -- she didn't like the air; she was with the Lord, and she was happy. This should give us all the solace and peace of mind that she chose to leave on her own terms.

During the vow renewal ceremony at sea, Bonnetta Louise Bostic Dudley asked me with tears in here eyes -- "Where did you come from?" I came from you mom, I came from you... and in the words of Robert Munsch:

I’ll love you forever,

I’ll like you for always,

As long as I’m living

My Mommy You’ll Be