This was read at Trudy's funeral.
I wanted to tell Trudy to fight. I wanted her to fight. But ultimately she knew what her body could take and God did just happen to have a say in the matter.
Trudy over the years has influenced me with her wit, intelligence, and sense of humor, knowledge, and love of me. Trudy is vibrant. Trudy is stubborn (that’s a compliment).
Trudy has always supported me on my many adventures. Never questioning, but always giving excited encouragement. She was usually more excited then me and would research and become the expert on the place I was going. I think sometimes she lived vicariously through me but really it was the other way around. I lived because she taught me how to live.
I remember her stories of working as a social worker in Compton, California. And I firmly believe that this is where she got her spunk and feistiness. She had a mustang that she loved dearly while working in California. When I picture Trudy, I always see her driving that Mustang down I-5 in Cally on the road to some rally as a twenty-something.
Trudy is a democrat. She isn’t one of those “new dems” that come and go as the politics change. She’s been a democrat her entire life, in fact, I have a sneaking suspicion that she came out of the womb one. Since I have moved to DC I try to go and do whatever rally they might be having, as I knew I would get a call from Trudy or an e-mail saying one of two things. That she either saw me on CNN or that she didn’t see me and asked if I attended. Because of Trudy I pay attention to this world around me. I read up on politics and know that people do have a voice. I picture Trudy beside me holding up the green sign that reads “Save Darfur.” Or her walking the three-mile walk for immigrant rights. I picture Ted Kennedy calling her up and asking her opinions on the new healthcare bill that they have in Massachusetts. I am glad she was able to see that in the year 2008 there will be a Mormon, a woman, and a black man running for the office of President of the United States. We loved watching the television series, “West Wing” together. Trudy has her hobbies and politics is one of them, always rooting for the underdog and the rights of others. That is what makes Trudy, Trudy. And we wouldn’t want her any other way. Ultimately her love of politics and everything donkey led me to thinking differently. I was rereading an e-mail she sent in the last few months that stated simply “Get a Hilary autograph before she gets to the Whitehouse to be pres…jealous 98942.” She always made me smile. She has slowly seen me become a democrat in my own way and I know she smiles at that.
Trudy and I happened to live in Salt Lake City during the same time frame. I had every Friday off and I would pick her up and we would go on small adventures. We called our Friday club the FIFF club, which stood for “Friday is for Fun.” We would go to the library down from my apartment on 4th South, which would make us think we were in a little street in Italy what with the new remodel. We would sip hot chocolate and people watch while stuffing our canvas bags with books to check out. Of course her bag would be stuffed with political satires, gardening, and cooking books. One of our other favorite haunts was Target. Something about the smell and vibrant red that caught our attention and the cleanliness of the store had us grabbing everything in sight filling our carts over the brim. And who could forget the bakery on S. Temple, our own little piece of Paris that would make the perfect Madeleine’s.
Many times over we made the trek from Salt Lake City to Selah. At least 6 times over the course of two years. We usually made it in about 9 hours, sometimes 10 if we got pulled over in Oregon. Perhaps, my favorite memories of Trudy were on two of these journeys. Tyler Hesselgesser had bought one of the Herrud boys white Acura. It was up to me to drive from Utah to Selah to deliver the car for some reason. Of course Trudy came along. This Acura had two mufflers and it was very fast and very loud. Trudy and I left at night and we would fly up the hills making sure to go the speed limit as we got into Oregon. Because the car was so loud, we would either blast the music or have loud conversations. Needless to say by the time we got to Idaho our voices were horse, but Trudy would keep on talking, making sure I stayed awake. My best conversations with her were on these journeys. Another time was when we both moved back to Washington at the same time. I drove and my car was stuffed full. At about 4am while driving through Oregon (again) I noticed a car following me and it was kind of creepy so Trudy said in her forceful voice “drive faster.” So I did. Ten minutes later I was being pulled over by that car. To get out of the ticket Trudy whispered, “Put your purse by my crutches so he can see them!” So I did. And this time it worked. No ticket.
As most of you know Trudy has a love of cats. There was a time she was living in Selah with my parents and on their property they had an older grey cat that Trudy swore was one of her beloved cats from a long time ago called Ghost. Well “Ghost” had something wrong with her voice box. When it meowed it would sound like a broken jack-n-the-box. One weekend when Trudy was out of town, Whitney and I decided to get rid of this cat and take it further out in the country where it could roam free and chase mice…basically doing just what is was on my parents property. So Whit and I packed it in the car and 30 seconds into the entire endeavor Whitney started crying and I started crying and we didn’t want to feel the wrath of Trudy or see how hurt Trudy would be. The grey cat called “Ghost” looked into our eyes and pleaded to be taken back to Trudy. To this day, cats are different to me. Of course we came clean with Trudy and she reprimanded us in our adulthood as was rightly deserved. Trudy has such a love of animals, always on the look out for one to take care of, even with us giving her a hard time. I will never forget that reprimand.
Trudy has an uncanny knack for choosing the perfect gift. At Christmas Trudy would usually include a water colored beach scene that she had painted in the annual gift exchange. We would go looking for the perfect mat and frame so that it would just sparkle and jump out at you as you unwrapped it. It was usually the gift that got stolen over and over.
I am grateful that my sisters have such fond memories of Trudy. I still have a painting that Whitney water colored at age 5 with Trudy training her. It's a picture of a car on an arched bridge. There is a vibrant yellow background. The bridge is grey and it's shaded to perfection with darker grey on the underside of the bridge casting it's shadow on the
water. The water is enchantingly blue. The car is a bright cherry red all alone on the
bridge with the arches headed I would assume to the beach. As Trudy and Whitney have a love of beaches. The painting is the size of a postcard. I think of it and think of Trudy and Whitney on a rainy afternoon as her most perfect nanny. She's turned out pretty good, you know. And then there is Tayler, who was raised by Trudy in many ways. When Tayler had her high fevers Trudy was there.
Trudy can keep secrets. There is something about her that makes you open up to her and tell her everything. The intimate conversations have included everything from religion, politics, rock n’ roll, divorce, marriage, single hood, food, health, family, relationships, men and the lack thereof. When you talked to her you felt like you were the only one that mattered, she concentrated on you, not thinking of what her response will be or what she has to do tomorrow. Her full focus was on you. I trust Trudy completely with my secrets and know she took them with her. I trusted her more than anyone in the world. Trudy was my second Mom and I always felt like her daughter.
