RIP Mom

I’ve read that dementia is sometimes called “the long goodbye.” Mom’s goodbye was that. She’d been living with dementia for at least seven years, and likely longer.

I’ve written before about my mother’s struggle with dementia. She really needed to go into a memory care facility at least a year before she did, but Dad knew if she went into the facility in early 2020, he wouldn’t be able to see her. So he gutted it out with the two of them in their condo until May 2021, and then visited her every day, twice a day.

Two weeks ago Dad called to let me know Mom was breathing only with the aid of oxygen, and had stopped receiving food and water. She lasted until the early morning hours of August 15. Her funeral was Monday, August 21.

I had known for several years that I would be the one to eulogize her. Here is what I said:

Good morning!

I’m Mark Youngkin, Dwight and Dawn’s oldest son.

I need to begin by thanking each of you for being here today to honor my mom’s life. On behalf of my dad; my family — my wife, Nancy, and our sons, Jonah, Evan and Benjamin — and my brother John, his wife, Susan; and their children, Sean and Katherine; please know that your presence today means more to us than words can adequately express.

It’s fitting that today’s service takes place in a building, in a room, that has been so central to our family’s life. We moved to Marysville in December 1971; John and I were in the 5th and 6th grade respectively.

Mom and Dad didn’t church shop. From the beginning, this was our church home. We were Methodists. And so much of our lives took place here at the intersection of Sixth and Court Streets. We were here for worship services, committee meetings, choir rehearsals, carry-in dinners, weddings (including John and Susan’s), Central Ohio Emmaus Community gatherings, leadership meetings, team meetings to prepare for Emmaus weekends, you name it.

I work in full-time Christian ministry now, and that would not be the case if it were not for the foundation I received here. As hard as today is, it’s good to be home.

Importantly, when Mom and Dad chose to return to Ohio after living full-time in Indiana and then in Florida for several years, they returned to Marysville and to this church, where they again became part of this great congregation. That became especially important when Mom’s illness was diagnosed. We are grateful for this place and for so many of you who embraced Mom and Dad as they went through a most difficult season of their lives.

Some of you know more than you want to about what dementia does to a life, and to everyone in that life’s orbit. It’s depressing and it’s difficult. I’ve told people more than once that Mom had dementia and Dad suffered from dementia.

But I don’t want you to think of my mom that way. So let me tell you who she was.

Dawn Colleen Pontius was born September 23, 1934, in Kirksville, Missouri, about halfway between Columbia and Des Moines, Iowa. She was the youngest child and only daughter of Russell and Ruby Pontius. Her parents were teachers who worked in various school districts in Missouri and Iowa. Russell was also a superintendent of schools.

Mom graduated from Griswold High School in Iowa and then enrolled at Iowa State University in Ames in 1952.

Iowa State was where Mom prepared to go into the family business, education, specifically home economics. It’s also where she practiced her avocation: singing. My mother had a beautiful soprano voice, beautiful enough to have been invited to join an international music fraternity for women, Sigma Alpha Iota.

She also was part of the Iowa State Singers, a touring choir. That’s where she met Dad. They both graduated in 1956 and were married January 18, 1957.

At their 50th anniversary celebration they shared that they had a group of couples they got together with, and they’d sometimes play a parlor game called “Let’s Get Married.” They’d start with a couple and a date and plan the wedding until they came across an obstacle that couldn’t be crossed.

One night the couple was Dwight and Dawn, who were already engaged, and the following Friday was chosen as the date, likely because it was just before Dad had to leave for basic training.

To hear them tell it, nobody backed out. So they got married that Friday night. I once heard Mom say getting married only a few days after setting the date might have been the only impulsive thing she’d ever done. But 66+ years of marriage has proved that it was the right thing to do.

Dad went into the Army and Mom stayed behind to complete the school year teaching home economics in Guthrie Center, Iowa, a municipality roughly the size of Milford Center, before joining him in New York City. That’s where they stayed until early 1960, when they returned to Iowa with their then-newborn son. From there, Dad’s sales career took them to South Dakota, North Dakota (where John was born), Illinois and then Marysville, Ohio, in December 1971.

When John and I were in high school Mom began taking classes at Ohio State to bring her teaching certificate up to date. She ultimately taught home economics for two years in the old Seventh Street Building, which has since been torn down. She was then offered tenure and resigned rather than continue teaching for Marysville Schools.

I noted earlier that most of our family’s life in Marysville revolved around this church. She was a Sunday School teacher, active in the United Methodist Women, served on several committees including missions and what’s now known as staff-parish relations. And of course, she and Dad were part of the Chancel Choir.

A more ad hoc aspect of her ministry was sharing her collected recipes and her cooking techniques with women of the church. I’ve been heartened lately to learn how many women attribute their mastery of homemade pie crust to Mom patiently demonstrating it. Dad and John and I certainly benefitted from that skill. It’s often said that the Youngkins only like two kinds of pie — hot and cold.

Her volunteer work at the church, and every other aspect of her life, radically changed in the fall of 1983, when she went on the Walk to Emmaus at Hyde Park Community United Methodist Church in Cincinnati. I was back home after undergrad at the time and the change in both my parents after their Emmaus weekends was readily noticeable. We were good church people before Emmaus. But as so many of you can attest, the difference between a church person and a Christian is more profound than the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.

She and Dad and I were among the 100 or so people from this area who attended the Walk to Emmaus in Cincinnati and then became founding members of the Central Ohio Emmaus Community, based at this church. She was a member of several teams for Women’s Emmaus Walks here, including once as the lay director.

Twenty years after arriving in Marysville, in 1991, Dad was transferred to the home office of Elanco Products Company in Indianapolis, where they lived until Dad took early retirement in 1995.

Mom decided to become a docent at the city’s art museum. That required a year of study before she could take a group through the museum. Many of those were school groups, so Mom was teaching again and loving it — until Dad accepted a job with U.S. Sugar in Florida. Dad says Mom cried all the way home after her last shift at the museum.

They lived full time in Venice, Florida, from 1995 until 2004, when they returned to Marysville, then wintered in North Fort Myers for several years after that. In Florida they volunteered at Educational Concerns for Hunger Organization, or ECHO, an agricultural ministry based in Fort Myers.

In Dad’s second retirement, Mom and Dad enjoyed travel to the Rocky Mountains, Alaska, Australia and a river cruise in Europe. And until Mom’s illness made it impossible, she and Dad also volunteered at the Hope Center here in Marysville.

Clearly today we are honoring a life well lived — Dawn Youngkin’s life.

Shortly before he was martyred, the apostle Paul wrote a letter to his protégé, Timothy. Reading the letter today, you can sense the urgency Paul feels as he issues a warning that should be preached from pulpits across America today. (and I have no doubt it’s been preached from this pulpit).

He wrote that the time was coming when people would not follow sound teaching, and instead would devote themselves to self-appointed prophets who were concerned only with reinforcing their own passions and spreading myths.

And then, Paul put a period on his life. He writes, “I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come.” Three distinct offerings were prescribed for the people of Israel in the Old Testament. First was the burnt offering, second was the grain offering. Third and finally was the drink offering. So when Paul refers to himself as a drink offering, it’s reasonable to conclude that it was his way of saying, “It is finished.”

Paul continues, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing.”

My pastor often says you can’t just read the Bible, you have to read the Bible. When you dig deeper into the text you discover that the form of the verbs “have fought,” “have finished” and “have kept” carries the meaning of completed action with continuing results. I love that! Completed action with continuing results.

I don’t think it’s reading too much into the text to say that Paul knows that he has left a legacy — through Timothy, certainly, but also through each and every believer who would follow him, including you and me.

And Mom — you’ve left a legacy as well:

• It lives on in your family, including your oldest son and your granddaughter, who followed you in the family business of education.
• It lives on in every pie baked in Marysville, Ohio, by people you taught the fine art of pie crust.
• It lives on in everyone who pitches in to make the United Methodist Women’s rummage sale happen, and those who benefit from the funds it raises for missions in this town, across the nation and around the world.
• It lives on in every woman who is serving God today because of a radical encounter with the Lord Jesus Christ experienced on an Emmaus walk where you were a team member.
• It lives on in all of us today.

And like Paul, Mom, there is a crown of righteousness reserved for you. You’ll receive it on the day we stand before God the Father at the judgement seat. In large part because of your faithfulness, I’ll be there too. So will many of the people in this room.

My most recent memories of you are in a bed at Walnut Crossing, unresponsive and breathing only with the assistance of a machine that supplied you with oxygen.

But on that day you’ll be alert and in your right mind again. Teaching a cooking class, quite possibly.

I’m looking forward to being there again with you, Mom.

See you at the house.

The time of visitation and the funeral was full of God-ordained encounters, and I hope to write about them soon.