Eulogies and Homily of Meg Matheny 8-24-19

Okay everybody.

If you don't know me, I'm Janine Hazel Romy and I've been friends with Meg for over fifty years.

Sitting down to write Meg's eulogy, we knew there was no way we would ever do it justice because there's no way to contain the magic that was Meg.

In a few words, to be read aloud.

This is only a portion of her story.

Meg was born in Ann Arbor, Michigan on October 4th, 1963, to loving parents, Jane and Jerry Hakes.

From the get-go, she had a spark that drew people to her, as you can see.

While Jerry taught in an all-boys camp, Meg won the hearts of the campers who loved to see her smile and laugh and often stop by to play with her.

The family moved to Massachusetts, where Meg grew up, loving the seasons of New England, especially the crisp, colorful fall.

Meg's childhood home was full of pets and people.

She always loved being where the fun was and never wanted to miss out on any social gatherings.

As a child, she complained to her parents that her pet turtle was too loud and she couldn't possibly sleep when she was put to bed while company was visiting.

In 1966, her sister Beth came along.

Meg wasn't too thrilled with this turn of events.

And wrote Beth's name on the wall in crayon, hoping to get her in trouble, claiming it couldn't have been her, because why would she write that dumb baby's name?

Fortunately for Beth, Meg decided to give her a chance.

They shared many wonderful summers together on the Cape, beachcombing and holding bake sales.

At home in Arlington, they put on plays in the backyard with neighborhood friends and play kickball in the street, which I remember so fondly.

Though they had their siblings, bats, Beth knew that she'd really made it when Meg invited her in her room to listen to Elton John and hang out.

Later on, they enjoyed going to concerts together, everything from Van Halen to the Clash to the Grateful Dead, and developed a deep and lasting friendship.

Making friends was effortless for Meg because to know Meg was to love Meg.

Her open heart and non-judgmental attitude drew people to her.

Meg attended Shady Hill School where her parents taught and is remembered by friends and faculty alike with great fondness.

It was here that she learned to play tennis and developed her passion for the sport, which she shared with anyone who would listen.

She went on to Northfield Mount Herman and then to Southeastern Massachusetts University with her best friend from childhood, me.

There were many adventures during those days, which we won't talk about here.

During those years as Meg the Rebel pushed the boundaries but always returned home, often bringing a wayward friend or two with her.

Meg inherited many of her welcoming ways from her mother, Jane, who was indeed her best friend.

Jane had amazing patience and compassion, and Meg adopted these traits and amplified them.

She would be the first to tell you that she was no saint, and for sure there were some wild times in her youth.

She was not a confident student.

It did not fall easily into knowing what she wanted to do when she grew up.

Perhaps it was in part her own struggles that led her to be such an empathetic champion to those in need of some extra love and care.

Meg met her husband Dave in 1986 and formed an instant bond.

He was hooked from the start.

And the story goes that he followed her home and stayed on her couch until she agreed to go out with him.

Which thankfully she did.

He soon won over her parents by helping to fix the deck off the back of the house.

Smart man.

Together, Meg and Dave found the church in Jesus Christ.

Meg was baptized as an adult and began forming her deep and unshakable faith.

When her sister Beth questioned her, questioned her faith and belief that God would answer prayers by praying for a pony right now.

Meg shook her head and said, What you need to pray for is patience.

I'm gonna pray for that for you.

Dave returned to Houston and Meg traded her strong Boston accent for a Texas drawl when she followed him here.

Those of us who knew her as Mago laughed as she talked about her dog in the yard.

I can't even say that.

They wed in 1990 at St.

Peter's Church, surrounded by family and friends.

While Meg might not have been sure of her professional path, she did know she wanted to be a mother.

She was thrilled when she learned that she was going to have a baby and was overjoyed to welcome Melissa into the world in 1991.

She adored being a mother and was full of pride and gratitude.

The two shared a love of animals, and the family joked that there was a sign in their front yard welcoming strays and letting them know they would find a home there.

Meg took care of several babies while their mamas were in school, and their home was full of laughter and squeals of happy kids.

Melissa started at St.

Thomas in kindergarten, and Meg discovered what would become her new home.

Meg had all but given up on adding to their family when she learned that she would have another baby.

Olivia's birth in 1997 completed the family and filled their hearts with an even greater sense of gratitude for her blessings.

Both girls were very different people, and while this challenged Meg at times, she taught them to honor their differences and to be accepting of those around them.

This tenet of love and acceptance is what drew us all to Meg.

And as the girls grew, their home was full of teens who were discovering themselves and found a safe place to land in Meg's warm embrace.

While she welcomed all and had a high tolerance for teenage shenanigans, she would not abide disrespect or crossing of boundaries, as Olivia learned when she was caught shoplifting.

Meg's punishment for her was waking up at 6 a.m.

all summer to make coffee and breakfast for Meg.

Olivia learned her lesson.

Their friends knew that Meg was someone to turn to in hard times, but when two friends were also caught shoplifting, they called Meg to come and get them.

She did.

But made them stay at the house and go to church with them the next day, telling the girls they needed a good dose of Jesus.

Meg provided shelter for spirit and body for so many of these kids whose own families had difficulty understanding and accepting them.

Olivia tells the story of when her now fiancé Robbie arrived by bike one night, carrying his belongings in backpacks and asking if he could stay.

Meg opened the door and called in from the porch that it was fine by her.

Just as Dave had endeared himself to Meg's family, Robbie has become a part of the Matheny clan.

Many of you know Meg from her work here at St.

Thomas and the many forms it has taken.

She loved being part of the St.

Thomas family, despite the ups and downs, and knew this was where she belonged.

She told of keeping extra band-aids for those kids who needed one, even if their boo-boos were barely visible.

She marveled at the staff appreciation luncheons and excelled at creating curriculum and found joy in being the first face the children saw in the morning.

Megan had inherited a passion for quilting and crafting from her mother and loved being able to share these gifts with the kids of St.

Thomas because she knew that she was helping them learn patience with themselves and to appreciate differences and imperfections as they sewed.

Meg was an amazing grandmother.

She was so excited when she heard that Melissa was expecting and asked of all the youth who visited her house what they called their grandmothers.

She said that the ones who called their grandmas Nona all had big smiles on their faces when they said it.

So Nona is who she became.

Her Facebook posts of Nova show what a special relationship they shared, crafting and watching tennis.

Owen's birth brought more excitement and joy and pride.

Meg, being the older sister herself, remember to heap extra love on Nova.

Nova says that her favorite things to do with her Nona were crafting, making pictures, and cuddling.

Nona helped her with her feelings and cuddled her when she felt sad and angry.

Meg helped so many of us with our feelings, whether, as Dave said it, it was reminding him to pray on his troubles and give them up to God, or sharing insights in Bible study, or brunch at La Madeline, the classic cafe, or Panera.

I see some smiles here.

Meg didn't need a church to be a true example of Christ's call to love.

While she knew her political views might not be popular, that did not stop her from calling out injustice and preaching acceptance, love, peace, forgiveness.

And to her, it really did start at home.

Her path was not straight and narrow.

It had its twists and turns, and truly, it ended here on Earth way, way too early.

But it was her path, and all of us would definitely agree that we were lucky to walk it with her.

Meg inspired, and it inspires us to be better people.

As her dear friend Jenny Shelton put it, I want to be more like Meg than I want to be like anyone else.

There will never be anyone else like her, but by golly, I'm gonna give it a try.

Meg, you will be missed beyond words.

We will honor you with our deeds of kindness, compassion, and forgiveness.

We will shine our light in the world as you taught us to do.

And we'll remember that you deserve it.

We've got quite a full full house here.

This certainly isn't the first time.

I've only had the opportunity of having known her a few years, but it didn't take long to love her like a mom.

Most of you here have had the pleasure of being loved by her, and that is something truly remarkable.

She accepted all kinds big, small, troublemaker or otherwise.

Whomever you were, if you were even remotely a friend or acquaintance with someone in the family, you were welcomed with loving arms.

Meg was a parent and teacher that was never worried about what a child might become.

She gave them the attention and care that every child needs without judgment or expectation of their character.

Unlike many other parents, she understood that a loving relationship transited any sort of disappointment that they might have.

Those who were surrounded in the light of her love have grown tall and bright like sunflowers.

In the time of knowing her, Meg lived a simple life: coffee, tennis, crocheting, and talking to whoever happened to wander in the seat next to her.

She was always approachable.

Plenty of people think of fulfilled life means a life filled with, as in too busy for others.

From what I gathered, her life was very fulfilling in a different way.

She had time to connect with people, grow a relationship with children and grandchildren, friends of her children, and friends of her own.

She will be missed.

Her love is still outreaching from within our hearts and beyond.

Meg was one of those people that didn't have time for anyone.

She made time for everyone.

And I can't help but think when Thomas doesn't know the way, he just should have asked Meg, and she would have told him which way to go.

Probably barefoot.

So this is the thing.

We have this beautiful, bright light that has shone and illuminated our world and not just not just light, but bright and colored light.

And we get to come here today to say thanks to God with the other difficult piece, right?

Which is it's we weren't ready, I would suspect, to give Meg into the arms of Christ.

We weren't ready.

We know God already has her.

And today is about saying, God, thanks for what you gave and doing the difficult work to put her into God's arms.

It's this funny thing about light.

We talk about this with our kids sometimes.

You know, when we're all done today, we're gonna go up to these candles with a snuffer.

And we're gonna put that snuffer over that flame, and it's going to change.

Because in the Lord, light and life are not ended.

They're changed.

And you can even see it with the snuffer.

That's a great thing.

You can see it change in the smoke and go straight up.

And this, I think, is part of what we get to do today is confess the truth that Meg's light is not going to be visible to us like it was.

But most of light, after all, is invisible anyway.

The visible part of light in the electromagnetic spectrum is like that much, kind of that much.

The truth is, all the light we do not see.

And so today we say in faith, we don't get to see what we desperately so want to, that Meg's light hasn't gone out.

The truth is, I can see it on most of your shirts, especially if you're wearing tie-dye, that Meg's light is not out.

It's on you.

And her light wasn't just white light, it was colorful.

There's one other really amazing thing about light.

It's not just a wave, it's a particle, which means even though it doesn't have mass, it's got momentum.

Light moves things.

Meg moved you here today.

Meg moved you in lots of other places before today.

Meg's light has changed the world.

And our invitation today is we do this difficult work of saying, God, I wish I could see your light in front of my eyes anymore.

Our invitation is to move Meg's light along in our lives and the world.

Out there, we get to say, Life well lived.

In here, we get to say, well done, good and faithful daughter.

Blessed are the peacemakers.

For theirs is the kingdom of God.

Our invitation as we do this difficult work of putting Meg into the arms of Christ the Good Shepherd.

Our invitation is to follow Meg in making peace.

I invite you to join me in standing as you're able as we begin a series of prayers in which we entrust Meg into the arms of Christ the Good Shepherd.