The following is the eulogy Steve Flairty, author of the ‘Kentucky’s Everyday Heroes’ book series and NKyTribune columnist, delivered at the funeral of his mother, Alma Faye Flairty. It is reprinted in honor of Mother’s Day.
“There are a whole lot of people out there who are worse off than me.”
Mom made that comment when she faced difficult personal times, most recently the challenges with cancer and loss of kidney functioning that took her life. Her ongoing words—and her way of thinking–always implied something quite important to me in my own life’s struggles. First, it’s not OK to feel sorry for oneself and complain about getting a raw deal in life – because it IS true that there are always others who bear more, suffer more, who DO get a more raw deal.
I learned from Mom that even with having many blessings, it is a fact that everyday existence can be hard, and, yes, it’s OK to share some of our tough times we face with others who will listen.
But mostly, her recurring words implied that we should be strong and do what it takes to handle what comes before us. I know of no “pity party” Mom ever attended.
Mom was a very hard worker, and I watched that every day while growing up. She worked for years as a house cleaner in Ft. Thomas to give added income to our family as Dad and she considered how they might send two kids to college.
In her own house, Mom cooked the tastiest meals ever, did piles and piles of “outdoor dirty” laundry and ironed our clothes. She canned jelly and vegetables, and she kept a clean, neat house. Outside, she worked in our tobacco crop, tended a huge garden, kept flowers and mowed grass…and for one summer, was the “slave-driver” over Mike and me in a memorable pickle-growing project. I use the term “slave-driver” with some misgivings…I probably need a stronger word.
In actuality, Mom simply asked us to work as hard as she did — and that was SCARY. We got up early from bed that summer, harvested and took to market hundreds of bushels of the little green cucumbers while Dad was working as a route salesman for Clover Leaf Dairy. I remember sneaking away for afternoon naps, dead tired with my young body, but Mom just kept doing more work around the house. No one could outwork her.
Mom was a compassionate spirit. I remember how she took care of her older brother Donald at our home when he was having personal problems, and I remember how she encouraged and helped Uncle Walter around his house in the aftermath of the death of his wife, dear Aunt Hallie. I remember an amazing animal rescue she did. A kitten was caught under the hood in our family car’s fan belt. The pitiful, furry little creature was found in a bad way and was nearly dead. Dad, Mike and I thought it likely best to put the animal down, but Mom saw some hope.
So…despite no encouragement from the three of us, Mom nursed the grateful kitty back from critical condition—watching over it as it lay in a cardboard box at the bottom of our basement steps in Claryville. She lovingly warmed milk and fed the kitty with an eye-dropper and plenty of soothing words. Within a few weeks, Mom’s compassionate project produced a growing young feline marvel who happily hobbled around in a world that my mother made possible—and showed Dad, Mike and me something about a strong woman’s capacity to care and believe.
Thinking about Mom’s greatest legacy, it may be, simply, that she was loved by so many.
Don’t misunderstand. Mom was not so soft-hearted she was like warmed over milquetoast. No. As kind and compassionate as she could be and often was, Alma Faye could also be quite assertive. Just ask those in the business world who sent her bills she thought were grossly unjustified or those who she thought dismissed her customer concerns as low priority. Her business-like but firm cross-examining sessions could be a mite uncomfortable for even the best of service representatives.
Mom meant it when she committed herself to Dad in marriage in 1951 and lived in California while Dad was serving in the Marine Corps. As a child, while snug in my bed, I remember her waking Dad at 3:30 in the morning, then preparing a hot breakfast for him. A few hours later when Dad was on his way to work, Mom fed two surly children and got them off to school. By then, Alma Faye had done a half day’s work when all the males in the family were just getting started! Mom was faithful and loyal to her husband and she loved her two sons. None of us ever doubted that.
Mom took pride in the things she felt were her greatest responsibility. As far as cooking, her comfort food was as tasty as is known to mankind. Her “angel biscuits,” or scratch rolls, were truly heavenly. She made an old family tradition, “ribbon salad,” and it melted in your mouth at Thanksgiving and Christmas.
She always had pretty flowers outside and kept her yard neat and attractive—even into her 80s. The strawberry crops she raised in Claryville produced a nice little summer income in roadside sales, and she once refused to lower the price when a local man told her that her berries were too high. That was not Mom’s greed working; it was Mom’s pride in her produce speaking!
But even as Mom lost her strength as her health diminished, she seemed more concerned about Dad’s health and other close friends and relatives, including my own trivial sinus problems—and whether I was getting enough to eat. She’d get on people to take care of themselves, but only because she cared so much for them. And no one would ever accuse Mom of being a hypochondriac; as mentioned before, she didn’t seek the sympathy of others. There were more important things on her agenda, and those things usually had to do with her being found productive—and she certainly was a productive person.
Besides Mom’s passion for domestic things and keeping watch on the relatives and neighbors she loved, she became an avid Kentucky Wildcat basketball fan. She especially liked Coach Tubby Smith. She also enjoyed kidding grandson Matthew, a Louisville grad, about the fact her team was better than the Cardinals. In the last decade or so, our phone conversations began to lean more toward Big Blue and less about the weather. For Mom, that was quite a turnaround, plus I didn’t mind, either.
As one of Butler’s “Fryer twins,” Mom and Alta Mae traveled to “twins conventions” all over the country for many years. I enjoyed hearing about the other twins they met and the friendships that were formed. I won’t forget, especially in my earlier days, Mom and “Aunt Mae” talking “baby talk” when they were around each other. And to me, watching another woman who was a spittin’ image of my mother was a treat that most likely don’t have, and though they were not identical, casual friends often got the two confused.
Thinking about Mom’s greatest legacy, it may be, simply, that she was loved by so many. She was loved by her daughter-in-law, Theresa, and of course, her grandchildren, who called her “Meme.” She was loved by her neighbors in Quail Run, who did so many kind acts for Mom and Dad. She was loved by the church at Eastside. She was loved by Sadie, the beloved Jack Russell that gave her and Dad so many years of happiness She was loved by so many of my friends who read about her on Facebook.
I worked a long time on these words said today—long before Mom passed. That’s because I wanted to give this amazing lady who touched so many—one of Butler’s “Fryer twins”– her due tribute. Now Mom…thank you so much for being the mother both Mike and I WOULD have chosen if it had been our choice.
Thomas Campbell said: “To live in hearts we leave behind is NOT to die.” If Thomas Campbell is right about that, our mother will NEVER die.
Thank you, Alma Faye…and thank you, Mom.
Northern Kentucky native Steve Flairty is a teacher, public speaker and an author of five books: a biography of Kentucky Afield host Tim Farmer and four in the Kentucky’s Everyday Heroes series, including a kids’ version. He is currently working on “Kentucky’s Everyday Heroes #4,” due to be released in spring 2015. Steve is a senior correspondent for Kentucky Monthly, a weekly KyForward columnist and a member of the Kentucky Humanities Council Speakers Bureau. Read his KyForward columns for excerpts from all his books. Contact him at sflairty2001@yahoo.com or visit his Facebook page, “Kentucky in Common: Word Sketches in Tribute.” (Steve’s photo by Connie McDonald)