Eulogy for Susan Unterseher

Note: Some of this was previously published on my blog.

Susan was my friend. My almost two year old son Paul ranked first on the Susan friend scale, followed by my four year old daughter Claire, and then me. My husband Adam was also her friend, but we were considered more as Paul’s entourage.

Susan loved Paul. When we came in her room she would shout, “There’s my Paul! I’m happy now because Paul came to visit me!” Paul loved Susan as well and climbed on top of her hospital bed to give her a kiss and a hug.

The first time I was amazed at Susan was about a year before her father, Ruben, passed away. She had just gotten home from the hospital after surgery. We had never been to her house before and were amazed at the artwork on display there. Her favorite activity was coloring and the walls on both floors of her home were covered with framed color by number marker posters. Her father was as proud of them as he would have been owning a Monet.

A couple of weeks after her father's funeral we discovered Susan was staying at a home near our house. Raul was driving across town to make sure she made it to church every Sunday, so we took over that job. Her favorite outfit to wear to church included a T-shirt emblazoned with the words "Still Undefeated." It was in reference to a football team, but we found it appropriate for her situation, too.

Eventually she had to be moved to a full-time nursing center because of health problems. We were initially horrified at the center because she was roomed with a severely mentally unstable lady who was convinced everyone was out to hurt her. Adam and I cringed when we visited Susan because of her roommate and couldn't stand to think about Susan staying with her. Susan didn't mind. She introduced the lady as her friend and shared her birthday presents. She gave her birthday cake, brand new crayons and even a small piece of jewelry.

Once at the nursing home we were startled by a lady screaming. This particular lady was usually screaming when we came. Claire was scared of her, and I must admit being unsettled myself. When we picked up Susan Sunday to go to church, she stopped in front of the lady's room and called her by name. "Bye Diana!" she said, and the lady responded in kind, calling Susan by name in her yell-speak. I was afraid to be around the lady and Susan called her a friend.

At church, Susan was anxious to receive communion. She nearly ran down the aisle with her walker, and would clap her hands and point to her palm in anticipation. I enjoy communion myself, but I have never run down the aisle or demanded my communion come faster. Maybe I should.

When Claire turned three, Adam started giving her a dollar coin for her Sunday School offering. This was the same time we started taking Susan to church with us and she wouldn’t let Adam forget to give her offering money, too. She attended the three year old class with Claire officially as a helper and unofficially as a kid. She enjoyed coloring and making crafts as much as the kids did. Adam and I would have three kids to pick up on those Sundays. Paul stayed in the nursery and Susan and Claire were a team in the threes classroom.

When we picked Susan up to take her to church, she didn’t say “Hi.” or “How are you?” She would greet us with, “I want Whataburger today.” Or “I want Taco Bell today.” She was a woman who knew what she wanted and was easy to please. Each time we visited her at the hospital and often when we saw her at the nursing center I asked her what she needed and she would reply with a request for a Whataburger hamburger and a large iced tea.

Once we took Susan to dinner at Whataburger (one of her favorites) and she thanked us as well as each employee when we left. "Thank you. It was very good!" she told them all. I always tell fast-food people thank you when I receive my food, but I have never gone back to compliment them on their hard work. They weren't used to it, either, and were obviously impressed.

Susan was so generous. If she didn’t have a colored picture for Claire and Paul, she would give them one of her stuffed animals or a puzzle. I was always emotional about that because her entire possessions fit into half of a small room and she was still giving stuff away. If we visited her at the hospital and she didn't have any toys to give away, she would give the children drinks from her cup of water or tea.

As her health declined, Susan had to quit her job, quit going to church, and quit walking. She still remained optimistic. She always had a good report to tell me. "Sarah, I went to work today." became "Sarah, I walked down the hall today." which became "Sarah, I sat up on my own today." No matter what she did, she was always proud.

Susan might not have had a college degree or even a high school diploma, but she knew what was important in life. She took pride in her work. She was unashamed to ask for what she wanted. She gave away anything she could. She showed love to everyone. In heaven now with her Mama and Daddy, she is still undefeated.