Photo and Collage Created by Esme Rimmel and Doreen
For those unable to attend the service today, and for my own ability to keep this in posterity. Below is the eulogy I delivered at her service.
Angela Botsis Eulogy
November 27 2020
There are so many people to thank. I will not remember them all. I will fail to mention some of you. Please know, this is not because I am not thankful, but simply because I’m her only son, with limited knowledge of what everyone has done. I am deeply grateful to all of you, mentioned or not. Thank you to Esme and Doreen who put the collage together at the entrance. I believe someone whose name I have not been told arranged for the flowers in her favorite colors. Thank you! Esme, thank you for all the work you have done this week to find numbers, connect with companies and make it possible to keep moving. Nick, thank you for guiding this service, being my mom’s minister and support these last few years. It always brought me peace to know you were here guiding her and keeping an old woman company. Thank you to Glen for providing funds to pay for Rod’s transport and loving my mom from afar with groceries and care beyond what was expected. Thank you to Rod. Rod, you have buried too many family members. The burden of grace, love and comfort seems to always fall on your shoulders. Thank you for being here, working with Nick in this time and the countless things you have done, that no-one knows about…Jesus knows! Thank you to all of you…words cannot express the depth of gratitude I feel for what you have done for my mother.
She would be, at the same time, beaming with the attention and love all of you are showing and, privately, embarrassed by that same attention and love. She loved each of you, in her way.
I want to thank you all for coming, family and friends from near and far, in-person or virtually. Your presence here is a powerful expression of your love for her. You bring tears to my eyes with your love. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
How do you sum up someone’s life in a message? Especially, how do you sum up this woman…this pink-haired, loud-talking, belly-laughing, life-loving, sailor-swearing, craft-making, and deeply loving woman? You can’t really. But we can pause, remember stories, laugh, cry, breath, shake our heads and silently thank God for creating Angela Botsis.
Her story is a story of nanas. She was named after Angelique Botsis, her paternal nana. Angela was a woman with the Mediterranean fire of Greek ancestry – the fire of Apollo and the love of Aphrodite. She spoke her mind, made friends easily, loved openly, got angry quickly, and forgave even faster. You never doubted what she thought or felt about you.
One of my earliest memories of her younger childhood days was when the family was over at Glen’s house for some or other function and he discovered an old 8mm film of the family’s beach vacation to Durban. Our family loved going to Durban on vacation. It is no surprise that she ended up living there. We loved being there! The video Glen found had footage of my mom and Terry in a rickshaw. I can’t quite remember who it was, but one of the sisters was howling in terrible fear as the Zulu driver jumped up and down and carried them along the beach front. When we watched the film, I just remember watching these four siblings, howl in laughter while simultaneously making fun of each other and getting annoyed at being made fun of all over again! It was a beautiful memory.
She grew up in a loving family and, like all Greek families, it was large, loud and surrounded by food. Something Ingrid learned on our first Christmas together with mom and Rod’s family. We gathered for Christmas lunch and started with spaghetti bolognaise (my mom’s recipe – wow she could cook!). Ingrid thought it was a strange Christmas meal but proceeded to load her plate. I was impressed by this woman I loved and how she ate! What she didn’t know was that the spaghetti was a first course, followed by course after course of eating. For hours we sat, laughed and ate. Large, loud and food…that is how I remember my early days with mom and our family. But there were the other days…small, just the two of us, facing the world together. It wasn’t quiet mind you…that is not the Angela way…well, mostly.
She was a pioneer in many ways, probably one of the earliest ways was having me. That was not the done thing in her day…a young 20-year-old who had fallen pregnant outside of marriage. Tsk tsk, they would say. Who cares, she would say. Instead of getting married, and instead of getting rid of me, she chose to have me. She CHOSE to have me. And so, I was born, the day after her 21st birthday…separated in hours from each other’s birth times, a metaphor that no matter our physical distance, we are always connected within.
How do you repay someone for giving you life? I don’t know how to do that. It was selfless, unconditional and costly. Yet she did. She endured shame, criticism, rejection, heartache all because she chose to have me. That is why we had this bond…a mother’s love, for her child, sure, but a mother’s choice too. And with that choice, a love from me that was as passionate and fierce as hers was for me.
She pioneered in work, choosing a career as a nurse, then working at Cargo Motors as a secretary, then for Tongas mushrooms as a salesperson, then Eskom as an occupational health nurse and finally helping at churches in multiple ways. A woman in business at a time when women were told to be quiet and do what men told them. She pushed through, pushed back and didn’t give a shhh. Well, you know what she would say…
She volunteered often…at church in multiple ways, helping with youth groups, serving with the non-profit I co-founded, and establishing quite a reputation for her food. She fed you. That was her way…are you sad, eat, are you angry, have some cake, are you sleepy, try a bikkie, are you hungry, try this feast. If you never tasted her food, you have sadly missed out on one of the greatest gifts God gave us through her!
Later in this service we will hear your stories and memories of Angela. Recently, a group who traveled to Cape Town to do some service work and who got to know my mother, gathered to share their memories of her. I’m betting they will be similar…stories of love and joy, grace and acceptance…along with a dose of volume and brutal honesty!
I have so many memories of my mom…literally thousands upon thousands. Moments of us together, just the two of us, at restaurants, walking on the beach, sitting watching movies, talking and talking and talking. I won’t bore you with all of them, but they also aren’t to be shared. They were our memories, and I will ruminate on them for the rest of my life until I see her again.
But a few memories might help you know the Angela I knew.
I believe the reason for her incredible joy is because of the hardship she endured in her life. I spoke of the criticism and ridicule she received for having me. However, she never received that from her own mom and dad (my nana and papa). They loved her through her choice and loved me like their own son. And so, it was a hard blow when my mom and I found her mother, my nana, after she had died in her home. That was when we went out on our own. She learned to raise me and make a life fighting for every scrap along with the way, sometimes with the help of others, sometimes despite their help, sometimes even when the help hurt more than it helped. She kept going, loving, laughing and finding a way…often at great financial expense rather than being wise with her money. She chose to spend rather than save and give rather than receive.
I am well aware of the deep love she had for me…no one, and certainly no man replaced me. She dated, and even married once, but she didn’t accept any threat to me and stood up for herself with courage. So, she pioneered again, and chose me instead of staying married to an abusive husband. She divorced him after only two months, and we went on our way again. There were others, but the one that came closest to her and with whom she loved longest was Manfred. They dated for 15 years or more (I can’t quite remember), but they never married. Sadly, his own demons got the better of him, and he committed suicide, choosing to do it in my mom’s home because of the love and peace she brought him. She never dated again after that. She was done with love interests…well except for that elusive Jewish, Apache, Arab wealthy man she wanted to marry. Like I said, her incredible joy came because of these hardships. She knew the worst, so she knew to enjoy everything else.
Perhaps that is why her smile came so easily, and her laughter flowed so freely and why she would always stick her leg out in photos, like a Rockefeller Rockette! Why shrink back from joy when the darkness can threaten so easily, push back…that’s the Angela I knew.
She was a pioneer of hairstyles. I can’t tell you how often she was stopped and congratulated for her hair. Multiple times a day, by retail clerks, grocery store cashiers, people at church and on the street. Her hair was like her personality. Bright, vibrant and attention grabbing. Her hair started a trend in Faith Community Church. After her first visit, we began to notice a number of gray-haired ladies (I would never dare call them old), sporting new pink, purple and blended colors. She was a trendsetter.
She loved to make food and to eat. One of our pastimes when she would visit in the States would be to search out all the famous restaurants and delis at which to eat. Our favorites were all the triple D places: famous from being on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, we would find all these small places and try their food. And she would always walk out being friends with the owners, often leaving with a wink and a nod at the older men owners! She was vivacious and large as life.
She would often ask for photos at these places. Oh, my word, the photos! She took photos everywhere. And not just one. Thousands, upon thousands. I would be commanded to stop driving on main highways so she could take a photo of a view, or a tree, or a sign. Thank God for digital cameras and camera phones, or the cost in development would have been huge.
She was nana. She loved these boys of mine as deeply and passionately as she loved me. She took her skills at making crafts and made each of them their own quilt, affectionately called, nana’s blanket). Each winter, nana’s blanket is put on their beds and keeps them warm. She made one for Ingrid and me too. It sits on our bed to this day Some of you know that same warmth.
She suffered much but loved more. She was passionate and crazy, old in body but a child in heart. She was powerful beyond measure without, yet gentle and soft within. She was a pioneer - not someone who will have a documentary or movie made about her - but a pioneer along with thousands of other women who broke the glass ceiling that said to women, “This far and no further.” And if there’s one thing you know about Angela. No one told her how far to go or where and when to stop - ever. To all those women...exemplified by my mother. Thank you for fighting. Thank you for pushing. Thank you for leading us into the future.
I thank you for allowing me this time to share, but if you will allow me a moment more. What is Angela’s legacy. I think her legacy is best summed up in a passage of scripture. You see, she was a Christian. We both became Christians around the same time. She followed Jesus and called him Lord and Savior. She didn’t always get it right or do it well at first. She made mistakes, had issues and asked questions. But she loved Jesus and kept following him. At the end of her life, she spent her days writing out notes to sermons and reading her Bible. Some of you were sent these sermons and devotions often delivered by Rod and me…we are very sorry! She would spend hours doing this. Everyone says she loved me so much. That is true. I felt that...deeply. But she loved Jesus too. So deeply and so powerfully that I believe she was growing more in love with him than she was with me. She began to radiate Him.
Here’s what I mean…listen to this passage from Galatians 5:22-23, from The Message Translation:
“But what happens when we live God’s way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely.”
(Galatians 5:22-23)
Some of these descriptions of what is commonly called the Fruit of the Spirit became characteristics of Angela:
- Affection for others: she showed that abundantly and you all experienced it personally.
- Exuberance about life: perhaps the best characteristic she showed.
- Serenity – she seemed at peace, despite longing to live closer to me and my family. She may have taken away your peace at time, but she had peace within. And the photos of her body after death, showed someone at peace.
- We develop a willingness to stick with things: she stuck with people loving them deeply. I experienced that personally but watched her do it with others specifically.
- A sense of compassion in the heart – she always wanted to help those less fortunate, often to her own detriment.
- A conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people: she believed in the goodness of people and things…except for spiders…they were evil, and bees (she was allergic) but everything else was treated with holiness.
- We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments: she spoke her mind, so she never had to worry about keeping her word, because she spoke openly.
- Not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely: well, maybe not this one…she was a force, maybe not so good at the self-control.
And maybe that’s because the Angela I knew, lived with a longing. A longing for acceptance and connection that drove her. She would sleep on the couch in the midst of our crazy home life enjoying the hustle and bustle of people and children. Part of that deep longing was for her own father and mother who she missed deeply. She could seldom talk of them without tears. But now she is reunited with them and maybe pushed past Jesus to run into their arms first!
I said earlier, how do you repay someone for giving you life? Perhaps by making the choice she made. Ingrid, Kevin, Connor, I choose you. My mother’s commitment is my mission statement in life - to be the best husband and father I can be. I fail at it often, but I commit to it here and now again more deeply and more passionately than ever before. If I can do it half as well as Angela, that will be exceptional indeed.
That’s how I will repay my mom, by doing this for the rest of my life
And mom…
…I miss you,
…I love you…always.
…I miss you,
…I love you…always.
And until that sweet moment in heaven where we can embrace again,
I will love these three like you loved me.
That is our hope. That is our future. That is our Heaven!
And that is all possible because God loved us so much, that he created us, sent his son to die for us and through faith in him we can unite together with each other and with him.
