For those of you who don't know me, I'm Will, one of Karen's two sons. If we look familiar but hard to place, you might remember us from our days in the church choir, playing Abba Father or Stairway to Heaven... When Eleanor was planning the memorial service, she asked if we'd like to play something for old time’s sake, but ever since they started doing Cadillac commercials, Zeppelin just didn't seem like church music anymore. ...So I decided to just get up and say something about Mom instead.

Mom's profession was that of a teacher, and while that doesn't seem to scratch the surface of all the jobs she tackled over the years, and all the roles she filled in them, on deeper reflection it actually sums them up nicely. Mom was a teacher of something more than math, or science, or English, or even (much to my personal embarrassment) “personal health” and sex education, she was a teacher of life, respect, and love. Over the past week, I've gotten emails and phone calls from dozens of people calling to send their condolences, but also to share their stories of how Mom touched them with that life, respect, and love.

I won't - actually can't - even begin to share with you how deeply she affected the people I heard from. However, I can share with you something she told Ben and I early on, that was reflected again and again in the stories I heard. I remember when we were little kids, before we would go to church, or have company over, or before some other event that required us to be on our very best behavior, mom would pull us aside. She would sit us down, and say to us: "Don't be good". Now, there was more to what she had to say, but for a kid that sort of grabs your attention. "Don't be good..." Then the kicker - "Be BETTER." Mom taught that simple lesson to everyone she met, either directly, where she would often "tell it like it is" and would just call you out with it, or by example, where she would go above and beyond what any sane person would consider "enough" to help someone out. If I had to boil down mom's lesson plan for life, it would definitely feature the "Don't be good, be better" lesson.

The other lesson Mom taught and practiced was to go outside your comfort zone - or maybe that was just a result of pursuing lesson number one. Regardless, it was a common theme in our lives growing up. We spent time helping at migrant camps in rural North Carolina, stumbling awkwardly through our broken collection of grade school Spanish phrases. We spent time at old folks homes, playing guitar, or holding hands with old people who smelled funny, or didn't seem to know we were there. We spent time at the homeless shelter, playing ping pong with the guests, spending the night manning the front desk. We spent time in dumpsters, in ghettos, in prisons, in front of hundreds of strangers, and in uncomfortable one on one conversations. We learned that the "right way" is usually not the easy way, and to overcome our discomfort to charge ahead.

This going outside the comfort zone thing is being practiced even today, as I uncomfortably stand before you here in church. Mom used to give Ben and me things to pray for during the petitions at church, KNOWING that neither one of us really wanted to say things out loud. We could say "we are praying for them in our hearts" or that "God can hear our prayers just fine even in silence." No, that wasn't good enough - they needed to be said out loud, for everyone to hear.

When Eleanor asked if I wanted to say something today, my gut reaction was "no No NO", but somewhere I could feel Mom, turning the screws, saying to me that some things need to be said out loud. Well, here it is - I've said it in my heart, and I know she heard it, but it needs to be said out loud, for all of us to hear. "Good bye Mom, we will all miss you. I’m not doing too good here, but I, we, will get better."