Eulogy for Valeska Niedzwiecki
My journal has been a bit morbid of late, but I am having a hard time avoiding that at the moment. I'll try to make my next one a bit cheerier. That said, I found out yesterday that I was the only member of my family who felt quite able to say anything at her funeral service, so I sat down and wrote something. The first draft (with a few copyedits) was precisely what I ended up saying this morning at the funeral.
Eulogy for Valeska Niedzwiecki
It’s a daunting task to try to summarize a life as long and full as my grandmother’s. Valeska Elizabeth Rutkewicz Niedzwiecki was born in Nashua, New Hampshire, a century ago this April to Simon and Elizabeth Ritkewicz, who had immigrated to the United States from Lithuania, then part of the Russian Empire. In her life, the Soviet Union rose and fell. She saw the spread of radio, television, computers, and the Internet. She was twelve when the Nineteenth Amendment gave us universal women’s suffrage. She experienced the Great Depression and lived through two World Wars, eighteen presidents, and - perhaps closest to her heart, at least these last few years - six Red Sox World Championships.
...and I think it’s a miracle to have lived to see one Red Sox championship team, let alone two.
Throughout all her long life, she approached others with intelligence, an open mind, and above all, an open heart. Everyone in this room was touched by Val Niedzwiecki in one way or another. She believed deeply in the Golden Rule - treating others how you would wish to be treated - and she never failed to find the good in others. My Aunt Paula told me yesterday that my grandmother was one of the few people she has known who understood and practiced unconditional love.
She devoted her professional life to helping others, such as the many children she treated as a nurse at Lakeville Hospital, and she devoted the rest of her life to her family, raising four children and fourteen grandchildren with her husband, with whom she is now joined once more, and meeting and helping new friends - who, to her, were just part of a larger family.
I spoke with my college roommate Zimran on the phone last night, who was also recently best man at my wedding, and he told me that my grandmother - my Machute - was his grandmother here in the States, when the rest of his family was on the other side of the globe. He understood the secret to her life that really wasn’t that much of a secret, when you get down to it. That to her, we were all good people. That to her, we were all equally deserving of her sympathetic ear, of her great belly laugh, of her truly genuine smile. That to her, we were all family.
People like Valeska Niedzwiecki are tremendously rare. We’re lucky to know one such person in our lifetimes. She was my grandmother. She was your grandmother, your mother, your great-grandmother, your aunt, your friend. Your family.
I hope to God that we can learn from her example and love each other just a little bit more, treat each other with a little bit more tenderness, and forgive each others' foibles just a little more easily. I hope to God that a little bit of Valeska Niedzwiecki can live on in each of us.
Goodbye, my Machute. The world is poorer for your passing.
Footnote on names: I did, indeed, spell them correctly. My grandmother went by "Rutkewicz" for her maiden name, although her parents' citizenship papers spelled it "Ritkewicz," her birth certificate spelled it "Ratkevitch," and the marriage certificate put together by the diocese spelled it "Rutkevicz."
Eulogy for Valeska Niedzwiecki
It’s a daunting task to try to summarize a life as long and full as my grandmother’s. Valeska Elizabeth Rutkewicz Niedzwiecki was born in Nashua, New Hampshire, a century ago this April to Simon and Elizabeth Ritkewicz, who had immigrated to the United States from Lithuania, then part of the Russian Empire. In her life, the Soviet Union rose and fell. She saw the spread of radio, television, computers, and the Internet. She was twelve when the Nineteenth Amendment gave us universal women’s suffrage. She experienced the Great Depression and lived through two World Wars, eighteen presidents, and - perhaps closest to her heart, at least these last few years - six Red Sox World Championships.
...and I think it’s a miracle to have lived to see one Red Sox championship team, let alone two.
Throughout all her long life, she approached others with intelligence, an open mind, and above all, an open heart. Everyone in this room was touched by Val Niedzwiecki in one way or another. She believed deeply in the Golden Rule - treating others how you would wish to be treated - and she never failed to find the good in others. My Aunt Paula told me yesterday that my grandmother was one of the few people she has known who understood and practiced unconditional love.
She devoted her professional life to helping others, such as the many children she treated as a nurse at Lakeville Hospital, and she devoted the rest of her life to her family, raising four children and fourteen grandchildren with her husband, with whom she is now joined once more, and meeting and helping new friends - who, to her, were just part of a larger family.
I spoke with my college roommate Zimran on the phone last night, who was also recently best man at my wedding, and he told me that my grandmother - my Machute - was his grandmother here in the States, when the rest of his family was on the other side of the globe. He understood the secret to her life that really wasn’t that much of a secret, when you get down to it. That to her, we were all good people. That to her, we were all equally deserving of her sympathetic ear, of her great belly laugh, of her truly genuine smile. That to her, we were all family.
People like Valeska Niedzwiecki are tremendously rare. We’re lucky to know one such person in our lifetimes. She was my grandmother. She was your grandmother, your mother, your great-grandmother, your aunt, your friend. Your family.
I hope to God that we can learn from her example and love each other just a little bit more, treat each other with a little bit more tenderness, and forgive each others' foibles just a little more easily. I hope to God that a little bit of Valeska Niedzwiecki can live on in each of us.
Goodbye, my Machute. The world is poorer for your passing.
Footnote on names: I did, indeed, spell them correctly. My grandmother went by "Rutkewicz" for her maiden name, although her parents' citizenship papers spelled it "Ritkewicz," her birth certificate spelled it "Ratkevitch," and the marriage certificate put together by the diocese spelled it "Rutkevicz."