Good morning. For those who don’t know me, my name is Ryan, and I am the son of Darlene. First, on behalf of me and my mom’s family, especially her dear husband Dave, her daughter Kelly, and her sister Pat, I want to express my sincere thanks and appreciation for taking time out of your day to be here today. This has been a very difficult couple of weeks for all of us, and your words, texts, emails, cards, visits, food, flowers, and presence have brought us tremendous comfort and healing.
I wanted to take a few moments to reflect on my mom’s extraordinary life, share some personal stories, and express my gratitude for the amazing mom that she was. Although I only had the opportunity to know her for the past 42 years, my mom’s legacy extends well beyond the past few decades.
Mom was born on August 27, 1945 to John and Jean. She grew up in a townhome on Gelston Drive in west Baltimore with her big sister Patricia. One of the childhood memories that my mom cherished was listening to her daddy singing “You Are my Sunshine” to help put her to sleep at night. This was a memory that she enjoyed sharing with my sister and me, as she rocked us to sleep when she became a parent. Mom remembered walking with her daddy in the woods, as he pointed out good mushrooms from bad, referencing his time growing up in Poland. She and her sister were daddy’s girls and absolutely adored him. Unfortunately, the sunshine of my mom’s life, her darling father, John, passed away at only 44 years old, when my mom was 9 years old. It was a situation that devastated her family.
The now family of 3 struggled through very difficult times, with my mom often recalling that their dinner consisted of “bone soup” – basically broth, flavored with whatever meat was leftover from a discarded chicken bone. However, she and her family persevered. My mom continued walking those 10-mile-uphill-in-the-snow-both-ways to school each day (which I discovered later was only ½ mile, so perhaps a bit of an exaggeration on her part).
These challenges shaped the person my mom would become, never taking anything (or anyone) for granted, being exceedingly careful with money, and always appreciating the little things in life. In 1971, she turned 26 and got married to the man she would spend the next 52 years of her life with, my dad, Dave (or as my mom’s mom, Nana, called him, “David!”). They were married on December 4 of that year (and for years questioned why in the world they decided to get married in December). However, it was a unification of two spirits that were destined to be together. Prior to their engagement, my dad had a spiritual encounter with a young man who told him to “take care of his little girl” – a promise he made (and kept) to my mom’s dad, despite never meeting him. Coincidentally, John Zheb’s final resting place in New Cathedral Cemetery ended up being in the same section, just steps away from the resting place of George and Alice Broderick, my dad’s maternal grandparents – further linking my parents in an almost mystical bond.
My mom made a beautiful wife, bearing a resemblance to the actress Barbara Eden, famous for her role in the sitcom, I Dream of Jeannie. Mom was Dad’s “Jeannie” in a bottle, and in a somewhat joking manner, he introduced her to his family as “Jeannie.” Mom certainly didn’t mind, nor did the rest of the family, as that was the name she became known as for the entire Kennedy clan for the rest of her life. I’ve learned that some folks were even surprised in reading her obituary that mom’s middle name was Joan instead of Jeannie. When I was an altar server in this very church, one of the priests leaned into me during the washing of the hands, asking me to remind him of my mom’s name. I told him, “Her name is Darlene, but most people call her Jeannie.” Although she had heard the name “Jeannie” for years, I still think she was a bit surprised a few minutes later during the Eucharist when the priest said, “Jeannie, the body of Christ.”
In November of 1974, a few years after my parents were married, they purchased a home in Reisterstown in a relatively new development, much further from the city where they both had grown up. As you might imagine from my mom, they haggled over the last few dollars of the house, just to ensure they were getting the best deal possible. They spent their first night together in that house in sleeping bags on the floor of the living room – a room that would forever become the centerpiece for welcoming family and friends for the rest of their lives. Mom loved hosting Thanksgiving in that room, sharing the holiday with the birthday of her brother-in-law, Vic. My parents also hosted many other parties throughout the year, especially New Years with raw oysters and Whiskey Sours in the garage. That was back when they had enough space in there to park a car. My mom’s refrain for years later would be, “We really need to clean out the garage, hon.” Which, by the way, I did want to note that in the 42 years I’ve known my parents, I never heard them refer to each other by their given names. It was always ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’, ‘Grandmom’ or ‘Grandpop’, and it was always ‘hon’ when calling each other.
Mom’s career spanned multiple years, working primarily in the insurance industry. She was particularly proud of the work she performed there, helping other people to protect their own assets during unexpected events. However, by the 1980s, I like to think there is a role she was even more proud to take on – and something at which she excelled – and that was becoming a mom. She put her entire career on hold to be a stay-at-home mom for my sister and me.
Having a mom around throughout my childhood allowed me to formulate so many amazing memories. Although she was an avid bargain hunter, she also loved to shop (or browse) around. I was too young to be left home alone but too old to be oblivious to being dragged from store to store. In case there are any younger people in attendance today, there was actually a time when you couldn’t order things online and you had to actually step into a store. Goodness gracious, I’m getting old. Anyway, mom made these excursions some of my favorite outings. We would pull up the lunch counter in Woolworth’s to grab a bite to eat – usually a grilled cheese sandwich for me and possibly a BLT for her. Or, we would stop by the popcorn stand at Kmart to snack on some freshly-popped kernels. And if things were taking too long, I would hide in the circular clothes racks in the big department stores until mom started worrying that I had been kidnapped.
As many parents can relate to, there’s little that can enthrall a child more than puddles after a rainstorm – and I was no exception. Mom didn’t mind me jumping and splashing in water because she knew I was having fun and creating lasting memories. After all, clothes can be washed and shoes can be put in the oven. Yes, the oven. My parents have a gas oven, and mom found that the slight amount of warmth generated by the pilot light was just enough to dry out a pair of wet shoes overnight. At least, when you remember to take them out before warming up the oven for the following night’s dinner. I recall a specific scenario where my mom was chatting away with our neighbor, and my mom’s good friend, Mrs. Elaine on our front porch. I heard the smoke alarm start going off, and I ran outside to let my mom know. “Don’t worry; I’m just heating up the oven, and that’s what happens sometimes”, she said. I checked back in the kitchen to see white smoke pouring out of the oven. “Mom, there’s smoke coming from the oven!” “It’s fine, Ryan. I haven’t cleaned the oven recently, and some residue is burning off.” A few minutes later: “Mom! It’s a lot of smoke!” “Oh, for crying out loud, Ryan,” she said as she got up, until she saw the smoke, as well. “Your shoes!!” Now, I don’t know if any of you have ever baked a pair of tennis shoes before… but the amount of rubber that drips off shoes at 450 degrees – is an AMAZING thing for a kid to witness. However, I don’t recommend it.
She was a great mom. She knew how to strike just the right balance between letting my sister and me make our own choices (and consequences) and setting us on a path to success. She and my dad made many sacrifices in their life to allow us to attend Sacred Heart School from Kindergarten through middle school. And this parish was particularly meaningful to Mom. Not only was she a parishioner since she moved to the neighborhood, but she got to see Kelly and me serve as altar servers and eucharistic ministers. When she did resume working, she did so right here in the school kitchen, so she could be home with us when school was over. Mom continued to support Kelly and me through high school, college, and beyond. In my case, I attended high school nearly 20 miles away, and despite the distance, Mom shared carpool duties to transport me back and forth every morning and afternoon for 4 years.
Even though it could be rough, she never complained. In fact, it was rare to hear her complain about anything. Well, except politics. As I can personally attest to, once you got her on that platform, you had to buckle in for a couple hours of political talk. But man, did she love this country. You may have noticed that her urn is adorned with the American flag – something that she held dear to her heart. In fact, if she was walking in a store and noticed anything that represented the American flag, a blue crab, or an angel, she would buy it – if it was on sale, of course.
She also had a love for music. Although she didn’t always follow the most contemporary artists, she had a soft spot in her heart for songs like “An Innocent Man” by Billy Joel, “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” by Elton John, “Don’t Let the Old Man In” by Toby Keith, almost anything from Neil Diamond, and even to an extent, Yanni. When I was young, I loved going through her collection of vinyl records. My sister and I must have replayed Peter, Paul, and Mary a hundred times over. And again, for the younger generation that may be here, a record is… oh, nevermind; I’ll explain records to you later, if you agree to explain Tik-Tok.
In 2011, Mom adopted a new title that she cherished: Grandmom. She adored spending time with her grandchildren, Alex and Katie, as well as watching them grow through their traveling adventures. Unlike their children, Mom and Dad didn’t travel much for vacation, although they did have an opportunity to create lasting memories on a handful of adventures, courtesy of Dad’s work. They spent time in Montego Bay, Jamaica and a week in Hawaii, creating bonds with close friends. Mom picked up a whales tale necklace on that Hawaii trip, which adorned her attire for years. In 2009, we were somehow able to convince Mom and Dad to join us on a family cruise to Alaska. Even more surprising, Mom even agreed to take a helicopter excursion to the top of a mountain to go mushing with sled dogs! However, Mom preferred to keep her feet grounded, closer to home.
Perhaps one of the most memorable times our family spent together was at the shore. Just before I was born, my Aunt Mary and Uncle Ralph introduced my parents to a little shack that was built over 100 years earlier as part of a 5-cabin fishing village on the banks of the Elk River in North East, Maryland. The cabins were being rented for the entire summer by the owner of an expansive farm property. My dad jumped at the opportunity, as it reminded him of his own childhood, spending summers on Cox Creek, just off the Patapsco River near Baltimore. My mom agreed, and they continued to rent that same cabin for the next 43 years, every summer from May through September. My sister and I spent nearly every weekend there, and getting to know the rest of this small community. It was here that my mom eventually developed a love for crabbing. My parents would wake early in the morning to bait a trot line with fermented (and I do mean fermented) eel and chicken necks. Dad was the captain, and my mom was his first mate, scooping in sometimes bushels of crabs throughout a long day of crabbing along the Elk. They often shared their bounty with everyone they continuously invited to the shore with them. The shore became not only a respite, but also a place for gatherings. My parents hosted countless family gatherings, filling the cabin with brothers, sisters, cousins, nieces, nephews, in-laws, friends, and extended family. She especially enjoyed watching her grandchildren, Alex and Katie, frolic in the same waters that Kelly and I did as children. There’s rarely a time I can recall when there wasn’t someone else at the shore. For them, everyone was welcome.
Dad loved sharing his time on the water with Mom. Ever the romantic, he once took Mom out on the river for a little moonlight cruise. While stopped in a spot for a while with just his boat’s running lights on, they heard the sound of rushing water, followed by a bright floodlight beaming down on their little rowboat from a large tugboat that had temporarily mistook his boat’s lights for a buoy. There was also a time when Dad thought a leisurely canoe ride would be a nice excursion… and it was, until it capsized. Dad quickly flipped the boat over and hurriedly tried gathering the equipment that fell out of the boat. He noticed that Mom was holding her engagement-ring hand above the water, and that’s when he realized that she didn’t know how to swim. So, yes, I guess you could say he saved her life that day (or, at least he would say he did).
Years later, Mom would have the opportunity to return the favor. In the past 20 years, Dad has had his own health struggles with a heart attack, cardiac arrest, and stroke. And each time, Mom was there to help nurture him back to health. And with strength, passion, tenacity, compromise, and love, Mom and Dad were able to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary together in 2021. In the past few weeks, Dad became Mom’s caretaker. As she struggled with breathing and heart failure, Dad was with her every step of the way, all the way to the end. She got exactly what she wanted, passing away peacefully, at home, in her bed, with her ‘hon’ for life by her side.
Mom is going to be missed, and the weeks and months ahead will be difficult. Tomorrow is opening weekend at the shore, and it will be the first time in over 40 openings where Dad won’t have his crabbing companion by his side. And there will be moments out of the blue that will trigger memories and reflections, whether it’s seeing a package of marshmallow circus peanuts or a bottle of Diet Peach Snapple or a rerun of the Golden Girls. I’m going to miss so many things. I’m going to miss her scented candles. I’m going to miss the times we talked about watching Unsolved Mysteries and Dateline. I’m going to miss our political chats. I’m going to miss her tuna sandwiches. I’m going to miss the love she shared with her grandchildren, Alex and Katie. I’m going to miss her motherly advice. I’m going to miss picking up the phone to talk and hearing her answer with, “There’s our good boy.” I’m going to miss my mom. They say that the amount you miss someone is an inverse of how much you loved them, and I – we – all of us – loved her so much.
Mom, the lessons you taught us will live with us forever. You would have been very happy that when the funeral home presented us with the bill for your arrangements, they told us that everything was “tax free”. And, yes, I could sense you nudging me before dad signed the contract to say, “Don’t forget to ask if they have a senior discount.”
And now we gather to say goodbye to the best mom there is. We can’t pick our moms, but if we could, I would pick her again every time. When we lose someone, they only go as far away as God, and in a place like this, that isn’t very far at all.
And now, with the heaviest of hearts, I would like to conclude with the lyrics that meant so much to you, Mom.
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are gray
You'll never know, mom
How much I love you
Please don't take
My sunshine away
The other night, dear
As I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you
In my arms
When I awoke, mom
I was mistaken
So I hung my head and cried
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You made me happy
When skies were gray
You'll never know, mom
How much I love you
Now my sunshine
Has been taken away
I love you, Mom.