Funeral Homily for Peggy Minis Threthewey - The Rev. Colette Hammesfahr

 

          Our reading from Lamentations this morning brings us hope. The scripture says, “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end.” These words remind us that, even in sorrow, God’s mercy and love endure. Peggy welcomed life with adventure, met challenges with resilience, and carried herself with elegance. Today, as we remember her, we give thanks for how her life reflected strength, joy, and hope.

          Peggy was a woman of adventure. She was an accomplished equestrian, traveled the world, and embraced life enthusiastically. She loved her animals. At a young age, she took to horses – riding them and caring for them. Her brother, Henry, shared a story about when she was watering one of her horses. The horse stepped on her foot, then pushed her right into the water. But it didn’t bother Peggy a bit. She was not going to let that horse get the best of her.

        She loved her yorkies and took them everywhere with her. I hope that all of you here today have acknowledged that she loved them more than anything else, possibly more than her family and friends. Well, maybe except for Peter, her husband of over 40 years. Her niece, Gates, shared photos of Peggy with me, and I could see the love in her eyes when she was holding her little fur babies.

          Peggy’s love for the sea came from her father, whom she adored. She spent many days offshore fishing with him and her brothers and then later with Peter. At 5’2” and only 105 pounds, she could haul in the biggest catch better than most men.

          With her job and later with Peter, she traveled the world with her adventurous spirit, leaving behind great friends wherever she went. She attended cooking school in France and Italy. She loved to cook and entertain, whether for two people or for 20. Through her travels, she learned conversational French and Spanish. However, I was told that her knowledge of French cooking and the French language did not always serve her well. Traveling one time in France, she ordered what she thought was lamb chops. What came to the table was lamb brains. I didn’t get to know whether she finished her meal.  

          Everyone who knew Peggy loved her. As I’ve talked with her family over the past few weeks, over and over, they have said that she was brilliant and one of a kind. Her most outstanding trait was her resilience and how she carried herself gracefully and elegantly through whatever life threw at her. Diagnosed with cancer, Peggy was not going to let cancer win. She remained the epitome of positivity with each new battle she faced over the years. Although cancer took much from her, it never took her spirit, her willpower, or her dignity. While she took this battle head-on, she still took time to care for her family and friends…at times, even from her hospital bed.

          When I met with the family to plan Peggy’s funeral, I was given a copy of three poems, all of which spoke about death and life after death. Peggy had written, “I love this poem” on all of them. On one, she even wrote, “At my funeral?” on the top. You’ll hear that one in a few minutes. The poems speak to how Peggy felt about death and her wish for all of you, her friends and family. A few lines from one of the other poems reads, “Death is nothing at all; I have only slipped away into the next room. Whatever we were to each other, that we still are. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner…all is well.” 

          Today, as we gather in grief, we also gather in gratitude. Grateful for the ways Peggy taught everyone to embrace life fully. Grateful for her resilience in struggle, which showed us what courage looks like. Grateful for her elegance, which reminded us that beauty is as much about character as it is about appearance. Grateful for her inspiration, which continues to live in the stories we will tell and the memories we will cherish.

          Jesus tells us in John 14: “Do not let your hearts be troubled… In my Father’s house are many rooms… I go to prepare a place for you.” Peggy has now reached that place prepared for her — a home of peace, rest, and love beyond all suffering. So let us take comfort in these promises. Peggy’s story does not end here. Her spirit, her courage, and her love live on in us. And we trust that she now dwells in the house of the Lord forever, where goodness and mercy surround her always.  Amen.