Janet Beck Clark Funeral
October 27, 2012
Throughout the last couple of months as my mom's
health was deteriorating - the mother that I thought about the most was not the
mother that I had during high school or my young adult years, it was not the
mother that is a grandmother to my children. The mother that I missed and
mourned the most was the mother of my childhood. The mother who read
stories to me - Millions of Cats and Ask Mr. Bear - the same stories she read
to my children and her other grandchildren. I thought about the mother
who used to do my hair while I played aliens with her dangly earrings.
The mother who introduced me to the beautiful world outside to see the
blooming lily of the valley that she would sing about in her lullabies.
The mother who would catch a butterfly and have me feel the tickle of its
legs on the back of my hand - or she would take a pin and uncoil the long
proboscis to show me how it sucked nectar. This is the mother of my
childhood - that taught me to really see, feel, smell, experience and
appreciate the world around me. As my brother Kip wrote in my mother's
obituary - she loved this quote from David Thoreau, "Heaven is under our
feet as well as over our heads." My mom believed this with all her
heart and couldn't help but share her passion with others. On hearing the
news of her passing, dozens of friends and family have expressed their
gratitude for how my mother taught them to see, really see and understand the beauty of nature and God's creations.
Her love of nature was infectious! She devoted an entire closet in
our home to this pursuit - we called it the "nature closet". It
was filled with boxes of shells, rocks, bird nests, insect nets, pinning
boards, and collections, bird feeders, an ant farm, dissecting tools, larvae
and insects preserved in formaldehyde, identification posters and an entire
shelf of National Geographic magazines. I loved this closet and spent
hours exploring it!
I was born into the Clark family as the youngest
child by 8 years. With all of my siblings immersed in their busy lives of
elementary and high school - I became my mother's shadow. My arrival was
unexpected and with the bedrooms already occupied by my siblings, I was
situated in my parents' walk-in closet. This arrangement lasted for more
years than any of us anticipated. I went from being in a crib to a cot
and finally a twin size bed - in my parents' closet. I slept for years
with my mom's clothes hanging above half of my bed. I even had a few
sleepovers with friends in that closet! But honestly and embarrassingly
for a lot of those years I slept in
between my parents in their bed. I would take each of their hands and cross them across my chest to fall asleep.
Needless to say - I was very attached to my
parents, especially my mother. I witnessed a mother who was in the throes
of raising five children on top of being involved in countless other
activities. In recently reading her journals I was astounded by the
extent and number of her accomplishments - all within one years period of time.
Not only was she a wife and mother raising five children, she and my
father were running a very successful and growing retail gift business called
The Naturalist - with a storefront in Trolley Square. They were
constantly travelling back and forth to Salt Lake City to set up product displays
and to manage the store. She also designed products that were sold at The
Naturalist and other retail shops across the country. And if that wasn't
enough for one woman - she was in the PTA, a member of the Utah Quilt Guild,
the Utah Valley Symphony Guild and the Etienne club group. She planned and executed large family
reunions, class reunions, company parties, neighborhood parties, extended
family gatherings, family cabin ski trips and countless showers and lady's
luncheons. She and my dad were in charge of July 4th parade
floats and the Produce of Utah County booth at the Utah State Fair. She
held church callings, bottles dozens and dozens of quarts of apricots and
peaches and volunteered to help exercise the disabled daughter of a dear friend
- several times a week. She helped organized a humanitarian aid project
with neighborhood friends to help a Vietnamese family in need. She took
an English class and sculpture class at BYU. And she did all of this in
the year of 1979 - 1980. I was four years old.
I know now that she often felt stretched and
overwhelmed by her life. But as the baby of the family - I was adored and
protected from any of the stress that she might have been experiencing at the
time. I would often accompany her as she
went from activity to activity which was usually pretty easy for her because I
was such a well-behaved child. This was
actually not true all the time. I would like to read two excerpts from
her journal to illustrate one particular frustration she had with me - swimming
lessons. "Friday, August 17, 1979: Emily took her first swim
lesson. Out of the five other children, she was the biggest
boob there. She seemed excited and pleased with herself however."
And "Wednesday, August 22, 1979: This afternoon Emily had her
swim lesson again...She has made very little progress. The little
'Chicken Liver!' Afterwards I took her swimming, hoping to reinforce what
she had learned, but I also made no headway.”
I am sad to say that this behavior lasted more than one summer. Despite my silliness - my mom was ever patient
with me and didn't take any of it very seriously - tired after 4 other kids.
She was a devoted mother that was absolutely
determined to do everything in her power to raise us to be successful, well-rounded
human beings. She would almost go to any length to help us overcome
challenges. When I was 16 years old I was in a very serious car accident
with 5 other friends. Due to the head trauma I had received from the
rollover I was life-flighted to a hospital in Grand Junction Colorado where
after 1 week, they determined I was stable enough to go home. But full
recovery would take months and I was in the first semester of an AP US History
class. One of the side effects of the head trauma was that I had trouble
reading and had extreme fatigue. My mother took it upon herself to read
and outline each chapter of my US History book and then sit down and review
each chapter with me - many times having to wake me up from constantly falling
asleep. I am happy to report that I passed the test - all thanks to the
loving efforts of my mother. She told me later that she found the information
extremely interesting and actually enjoyed the reading!
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My mother had a delightful sense of humor and
loved to laugh. There were 3 people in particular that could really get
her going. One was my husband Weston. I think Mom was a little
shocked at first by his quirky and sometimes inappropriate humor but he
eventually won her over and there were times when I wondered if she loved him
more than me. The second person that could make my mom laugh to tears was
her brother Larry Beck. Some of my fondest childhood memories are sitting
among my parents and her siblings – listening to them converse. Larry
would tell us tales of his wild and crazy adventures - which usually involved
driving a school bus and being in Mexico - and my mom would be speechless with
laughter - tears rolling down her face. But the man in her life that
brought the most joy and laughter was my father. He also could bring her
to tears with his sense of humor and often eased tensions and conflict with his
wit. Almost to the very end he could get a rise out of her with his
charming humor. This past Thursday was the last time that Wes and I were
with my mom when she was somewhat alert and coherent. We sat around her
hospital bed as my dad fed her lunch - we had brought in one of her favorite
meals, coconut shrimp from Red Lobster. My dad was trying to get her to
drink Ensure which she hated so he kept calling it a "malt" - giggling
every time he offered it to her. She rolled her eyes, semi-smiled and
unfortunately could not be fooled saying with exasperation, "He always
calls it a malt!"
My mother herself had quick wit and a sharp
sense of humor - and was one of the best story tellers around. One thing that
was most endearing to me was her constant use of old fashioned similes and
quirky phrases that she used in her conversations. They describe things
so perfectly that I find myself using them at times. I think she
inherited most of these from her own mother. But as I have grown older -
I have found them so charming that I started to write them down. I would
like to read the list of her sayings to you now and as you hear them...I am
sure you will be able to hear her voice.
Strong as an ox, poor as church mice, sick as a
dog, ran like a deer, memory like an elephant, sharp as a tack, brown as nuts
(usually used to describe the Collins family after they returned home from the
beach each summer), worked like Trojans, swim like a fish, happy as a clam or
happy as a lark, like a bull in a china shop, worn to a frazzle, wild as a
march hare (often used to describe the grandchildren), mad as a hornet,
grinning like a “Chesey” cat, keep your
eyes peeled, lazy lout and wilting violet.
I want to take just a few minutes to thank each
of my family members for the beautiful care that they gave my mother.
Each person brought a unique quality to these interactions that
strengthened and comforted her. Shawn's presence brought leadership and
wisdom that we could not have done without. I am especially grateful for
his guidance and insights as we navigated through the final weeks of Mom's
life. Kip made a huge sacrifice in moving in with my parents to support
them physically and emotionally. He was a friend to my dad and of course
always provided the most delicious comfort food. Tess – as my mom would
say, “worked like a Trojan” and was tireless in her efforts to do things like
bathe mom and to do her hair. She had no qualms about standing in the tub
with my mom washing her and caring for her. It meant so much to my mom.
Amy always lightened the mood with her humor and had a genuine interest
in mom and her well-being. Mom told me a few times that when it came to
her personal history, Amy was the one who seemed truly interested and would sit
and ask questions and listen while Mom would talk.
And my Dad…if there possibly could be anything
good about this experience, it is that is provided me an opportunity to really
come to know and grow close to my father.
I cherish the relationship that we have developed through the years of
caring for my mother. My father is a
good, good man – the best there is. He
is selfless and self-sacrificing. He tenderly and patiently gave his whole self
to my mom – definitely throughout their marriage of 54 years – and especially
during the past 8 years. I will never
forget watching such sweet moments between them as she became completely dependent
on him.
I wish I had time to recognize and thank each
person that has shown us love and support through all of this – but you know
who you are. And there are many. And we are eternally grateful. I must thank my husband and children for
supporting me through this difficult time – I couldn’t have done it without
them.
I feel incredibly blessed to have lived my life
as Janet Clark's daughter. Everything that I am today is because of her.
She has been and always will be the voice inside my head. This
experience has been intensely difficult - more so than I ever would have
imagined. But every tear, every heartache, every sorrow that I feel is a
testament to the deep love that I have for my mother. So I will mourn and grieve and cry and hope
that in time the raw emotions will fade.
I know I will see her again – I know it without a doubt. I am grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ
that gives me that knowledge. Several
friends who have lost loved ones have testified to me that the veil is thin –
that she will be close. I am grateful
for that knowledge because heaven knows I need her!
