for Barbara Bush: 'She called her style, a benevolent dictatorship. But honestly, it wasn't always benevolent', by Jeb Bush - 2018

21 April 2018, St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Houston, Texas, USA

As I stand here today to share a few words about my mom, I feel her looming presence behind me.

And I know exactly what she's thinking right now."Jeb, keep it short. Don't' drag this out. People have already heard enough remarks already and most of all, don't get weepy. Remember, I've spent decades laughing and living a life with these people!" 

And that is true. 

Barbara Bush filled our lives with laughter and joy and in the case of her family, she was our teacher and role model on how to live a life of purpose and meaning.

 Mom got us through our difficult times with consistent, take-it-to-the-bank, unconditional but tough love. She called her style, a benevolent dictatorship. But honestly, it wasn't always benevolent.

On behalf of our family we want to thank the thousands and thousands of expressions of condolence and love for our precious mother.

We want to thank mom's caregivers for their compassionate care in the last month's of her life. I want to thank Neil and Maria for their next door family love of our parents and thank John and Suzanne for their eloquent words. 

Meachum, it might have been a little long but it was beautiful. We want to thank Russ and Laura for their friendship and pastoral care of our parents and we want to thank all that are here to celebrate the life of Barbara Bush.

It is appropriate to express gratitude because we learned to do that at a very early age.

You see our mom was our first and most important teacher. "Sit up, look people in the eye, say please and thank you, do your homework, quit whining and stop complaining, eat your broccoli". 

Yes, Dad she said that .

The little things we learned became habits and they led to bigger things like, be kind. Always tell the truth, Never disparage anyone. Serve others.

Treat everyone as you would want to be treated and love your God with your heart and soul.

What a blessing to have a teacher like that 24/7. Now to be clear, her students weren't perfect. That's an understatement.

 We learned a lot more from our mom and our Ganny...Her authentic, plastic pearls. Her not coloring her hair - by the way, she was beautiful till the day she died.

Mom got us through our difficult times with consistent, take-it-to-the-bank, unconditional but tough love.

She called her style, a benevolent dictatorship. But honestly, it wasn't always benevolent.

When our children got a little older, they would spend more time visiting their Gampy and Ganny.

All it would take would be one week and when they came home, all of a sudden they were pitching in around the house. They didn't fight as much and they were actually nice to be with.

I attribute this to the unbridled fear of the ganny lecture and the habit forming effects of better behavior taking hold even in her 90s, mom could strike fear into her grandchildren, nephews, nieces and her children, if someone didn't behave.

 The last time mom went in to the hospital, I think Dad got sick on purpose so that he could be with her...he came into a room when she was sleeping and held her hand. He looked like hell...Mom opened her eyes and said, "My God, George, you are devastatingly handsome!" Every nurse, doctor, staffer had to run to the hallway because they all started crying.

There were no safe spaces or microaggressions allowed with Barbara Pierce Bush. 

'But in the end, every grandchild knew their Ganny loved them. We learned a lot more from our mom and our Ganny. We learned not to take ourselves too seriously

'We learned that humor is a joy that should be shared some of my greatest memories are participating in our family dinners when mom would get into it, most of the time with George W, as you might imagine, and having us all laughing to tears. 

'We learned to strive to be genuine and authentic by the best role model in the world.

'Her authentic, plastic pearls. Her not coloring her hair - by the way, she was beautiful till the day she died. 

'Her hugging of an HIV aids patient at a time when her own mother wouldn't do it.

GEORGE H.W. BUSH'S 1994 LOVE LETTER TO BARBARA ON THEIR 49th ANNIVERSARY

As part of his Eulogy, Jeb read aloud a letter his father sent his mother on their 49th wedding anniversary. It read:

"Will you marry me? Oops, I forgot we did that 49 years ago. I was very happy on that day in 1945 but I am even happier today .

"You have given me joy that few men know. You have made our boys into men by balling them out and then, right away, by loving them.

"You've helped Doro be the sweetest, greatest daughter in the whole wide world.

"I have climbed perhaps the highest mountain in the world but even that cannot hold a candle to being Barbara's husband.

 "Mom used to tell me, "Now, George, don't walk ahead." Little did she know I was only trying to keep up, keep up with Barbara Pierce from Rye, New York. I love you."

'Her standing by her man with a little rhyming poetry in the 1984 election. And a thousand other ways. Barbara Pierce Bush was real and that's people admired her and loved her so.

'Finally, our family has had front row seat for the most amazing love story. 

'Through a multitude of moves, from New Haven to Odessa to Ventura, to Bakersfield, to Compton, to Midland, to Houston, to DC, to New York, to DC, to Beijing, to DC, to Houston, to DC, back to Houston and Kennebunkport, their love was a constant in our lives.

My dad is a phenomenal letter writer and he would write mom on their wedding anniversaries which totalled an amazing 73 years.

Here's one of them written on January 6, 1994:

"Will you marry me? Oops, I forgot we did that 49 years ago. I was very happy on that day in 1945 but I am even happier today .

"You have given me joy that few men know. You have made our boys into men by balling them out and then, right away, by loving them.

"You've helped Doro be the sweetest, greatest daughter in the whole wide world.

"I have climbed perhaps the highest mountain in the world but even that cannot hold a candle to being Barbara's husband.

"Mom used to tell me, "Now, George, don't walk ahead." Little did she know I was only trying to keep up, keep up with Barbara Pierce from Rye, New York. 

"I love you."

'The last time mom went in to the hospital, I think Dad got sick on purpose so that he could be with her.

That's my theory at least cause literally a day later he showed up with an illness, he came into a room when she was sleeping and held her hand, his hair was standing straight up, he was wearing a mask to improve his breathing, he was wearing a hospital gown, in other words, he looked like hell.

Mom opened her eyes and said, "My God George, you are devastatingly handsome!"

Every nurse, doctor, staffer had to run to the hallway because they all started crying.

I hope you can see why we think our mom and our dad are teachers and models for our entire family and for many others.

Finally, the last time I was with her, I asked her about dying. Was she ready to go? Was she sad? Without missing a beat, she said, "Jeb, I believe in Jesus and he is my savior.

"I don't want to leave your dad but I know I will be in a beautiful place." 

Mom, we look forward to being with you and Robyn and all of God's children.

We love you.

For for Jacqueline Kennedy-Onassis: 'She was a lesson to the world on how to do things right', Onassis by Edward Kennedy - 1994

23 May 1994, St. Ignatius Loyola Roman Catholic Church, Washington DC, USA

Last summer, when we were on the upper deck on the boat at the Vineyard, waiting for President and Mrs. Clinton to arrive, Jackie turned to me and said: "Teddy, you go down and greet the President."

"But," I said, "Maurice is already there."

And Jackie answered: "Teddy, you do it. Maurice isn't running for re-election."

She was always there--for all our family--in her special way.

She was a blessing to us and to the nation-and a lesson to the world on how to do things right, how to be a mother, how to appreciate history, how to be courageous.

No one else looked like her, spoke like her, wrote like her, or was so original in the way she did things. No one we knew ever had a better sense of self.

Eight months before she married Jack, they went together to President Eisenhower's Inaugural Ball. Jackie said later that that's where they decided they liked Inaugurations.

No one ever gave more meaning to the title of First Lady. The nation's capital city looks as it does because of her. She saved Lafayette Square and Pennsylvania Avenue.

Jackie brought the greatest artists to the white House, and brought the Arts to the center of national attention. Today, in large part because of her inspiration and vision, the arts are an abiding part of national policy.

President Kennedy took such delight in her brilliance and her spirit. At a white House dinner, he once leaned over and told the wife of the French Ambassador, "Jackie speaks fluent French. But I only understand one out of every five words she says--and that word is DeGaulle."

And then, during those four endless days in 1963, she held us together as a family and a country. In large part because of her, we could grieve and then go on, She lifted us up, and in the doubt and darkness, she gave her fellow citizens back their pride as Americans. She was then 34 years old.

Afterward, as the eternal fame she lit flickered in the autumn of Arlington Cemetery, Jackie went on to do what she most wanted--to raise Caroline and John, and warm her family's life and that of all the Kennedys.

Robert Kennedy sustained her, and she helped make it possible for Bobby to continue. She kept Jack's memory alive, as he carried Jack's mission on. Her two children turned out to be extraordinary, honest, unspoiled, and with a character equal to hers. And she did it in the most trying of circumstances. They are her two miracles.

Her love for Caroline and John was deep and unqualified. She reveled in their accomplishments, she hurt with their sorrows, and she felt sheer joy and delight in spending time with them. At the mere mention of one of their names, Jackie's eyes would shine brighter and her smile would grow bigger.

She once said that if you "bungle raising your children nothing else much matters in life." She didn't bungle. Once again, she showed how to do the most important thing of all, and do it right.

When she went to work, Jackie became a respected professional in the world of publishing. And because of her, remarkable books came to life. She searched out new authors and ideas. She was interested in everything.

Her love of history became a devotion to historic preservation. You knew, when Jackie joined the cause to save a building in Manhattan, the bulldozers might as well turn around and go home.

She had a wonderful sense of humor--a way of focusing on someone with total attention--and a little girl delight in who they were and what they were saying. It was a gift of herself that she gave to others. And in spite of all her heartache and loss, she never faltered.

I often think of what she said about Jack in December after he died: "They made him a legend, when he would have preferred to be a man.' Jackie would have preferred to be just herself, but the world insisted that she be a legend, too.

She never wanted public notice, in part I think, because it brought back painful memories of an unbearable sorrow, endured in the glare of a million lights.

In all the years since then, her genuineness and depth of character continued to shine through the privacy to reach people everywhere. Jackie was too young to be a widow in 1963, and too young to die now.

Her grandchildren were bringing new joy to her life, a joy that illuminated her face whenever you saw them together. Whether it was taking Rose and Tatiana for an ice cream cone, or taking a walk in Central Park with little Jack as she did last Sunday, she relished being Grand Jackie and showering her grandchildren with love.

At the end, she worried more about us tan herself. She let her family and friends know she was thinking of them. How cherished were those wonderful notes in her distinctive hand on her powder blue stationery!

In truth, she did everything she could--and more--for each of us.

She made a rare and noble contribution to the American spirit. But for us, most of all she was a magnificent wife, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, and friend.

She graced our history. And for those of us who knew and loved her--she graced our lives.

For Maya Angelou: 'She spoke to the essence of black women', by Michelle Obama - 2014

June 7, 2014, Wake Forest University's Wait Chapel, North Carolina, USA

To the family — Guy, to all of you — to the friends, President Clinton, Oprah, my mother Cicely Tyson, Ambassador Young — let me just share something with you: My mother, Marian Robinson, never cares about anything I do. But when Dr. Maya Angelou passed, she said, “You’re going, aren’t you?” I said, “Well, Mom, I’m not really sure, I have to check with my schedule’ she said “You are going. Right?” I said “Well, I’m gonna get back to you, I have to check with the people, figure it out.” I came back and said that I was scheduled to go and she said “That’s good. Now I’m happy.”

It is such a profound honor — truly a proud honor — to be here today on behalf of myself and my husband as we celebrate one of the greatest spirits our world has ever known, our dear friend Dr. Maya Angelou. In the Book of Psalms it reads, “I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are your works, my soul knows very well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.”

What a perfect description of Maya Angelou and the gift she gave to her family and all who loved her. She taught us that we are each wonderfully made, intricately woven and put on this earth for purpose far greater than we could ever imagine.

When I think of Maya Angelou I think of the affirming power of her words. The first time I read “Phenomenal Woman” I was struck by how she celebrated black women’s beauty like no one had ever dared to before. Our curves, our stride, our strength, our grace. Her words were clever, and sassy. They were powerful and sexual and boastful. And in that one singular poem, Maya Angelou spoke to the essence of black women but she also graced us with an anthem for all women, a call for all of us to embrace our God-given beauty.

And oh, how desperately black girls needed that message. As a young woman I needed that message. As a child, my first doll was Malibu Barbie — that was the standard for perfection. That was what the world told me to aspire to.

But then I discovered Maya Angelou, and her words lifted me right out of my own little head. Her message was very simple: She told us that our worth had nothing to do with what the world might say. Instead she said, “Each of us comes form the creator trailing wisps of glory.” She reminded us that we must each find our own voice, decide our own value, and then announce it to the world with all the pride and joy that is our birthright as members of the human race.

Dr. Angelou’s words sustained me on every step of my journey. Through lonely moments in ivy-covered classrooms and colorless skyscrapers. Through blissful moments mothering two splendid baby girls. Through long years on the campaign trail where at times my very womanhood was dissected and questioned. For me, that was the power of Maya Angelou’s words — words so powerful that they carried a little black girl from the South Side of Chicago all the way to the White House.

And today as First Lady whenever the term “authentic” is used to describe me I take it as a tremendous compliment because I know that I am following in the footsteps of great women like Maya Angelou. But really, I am just a beginner. I am baby authentic.

Maya Angelou, now she was the original. She was the master. For at a time when there were such stifling constraints on how black women could exist in the world, she serenely disregarded all the rules with fiercely passionate unapologetic self. She was comfortable in every inch of her gloriously brown skin.

But for Dr. Angelou her own transition was never enough. You see, she didn’t just want to be phenomenal herself. She wanted us all to be phenomenal right alongside her.

So that’s what she did throughout her lifetime. She gathered so many of us under her wing. I wish I was a daughter. But I was right under that wing — sharing her wisdom, her genius and her boundless love.

I first came into her presence in 2008, when she spoke at a campaign rally here in North Carolina. At that point she was in a wheelchair, hooked up to an oxygen tank to help her breathe. But let me tell you, she rolled up like she owned the place. She took the stage as she always did — like she’d been born there. And I was so completely awed and overwhelmed by her presence I could barely concentrate on what she was saying to me.

But while I don’t remember her exact words I do remember exactly how she made me feel.

She made me feel like I owned the place, too. She made me feel like I had been born on that stage right next to her. And I remember thinking to myself, “Maya Angelou knows who I am! And she is rooting for me! So now, I’m good. I can do this. I can do this.”

And that’s really true for us all. Because in so many ways Maya Angelou knew us. She knew our hope, our pain, our ambition, our fear, our anger, our shame. And she assured us that in spite of it all — in fact, because of it all — we were good. And in doing so, she paved the way for me, and Oprah and so many others just to be our good ol’ black women selves. She showed us that eventually, if we stayed true to who we are, then the world would embrace us.

And she did this not just for black women but for all women. For all human beings. She taught us all that it is okay to be your regular old self, whatever that is. Your poor self, your broken self, your brilliant, bold, phenomenal self. That was Maya Angelou’s reach.

She touched me, she touched you, she touched all of you she touched people all across the globe — including a young white woman from Kansas who named her daughter after Maya and raised her son to be the first black President of the United States.

So when I heard that Dr. Angelou had passed, I felt a deep sense of loss. I also felt a profound sense of peace — because there is no question that Maya Angelou will always be with us. Because there was something truly divine about Maya. I know that now as always, she is right where she belongs.

May her memory be a blessing to us all.

Thank you. God bless.

This is the poem Michelle Obama refers to. From poetryfoundation.org

Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size   
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,   
The stride of my step,   
The curl of my lips.   
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,   
That’s me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,   
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.   
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.   
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,   
And the flash of my teeth,   
The swing in my waist,   
And the joy in my feet.   
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Men themselves have wondered   
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,   
They say they still can’t see.   
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,   
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.   
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.   
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,   
The bend of my hair,   
the palm of my hand,   
The need for my care.   
’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.