In Memory of Bernice Elizabeth (Sam) Paul
September 12, 1925 - April 13, 2020

Over the last couple of years we have grieved as a nation for the loss of some true American heroes, Elijah Cummings, Congressman and Civil Rights Leader, Senator John McCain and President George H.W. Bush. Their lives were marked by sacrifice and service and they embodied the spirit of honor and integrity. True national heroes. Remarkable men.

My Mother, 12 years senior to Senator McCain, was an ordinary, extraordinary woman and no less a hero. Ordinary, in that her accomplishments never captured the national psyche and her exploits never appeared on the evening news. But make no mistake, she was indeed extraordinary. Extraordinary in that she overcame deep poverty, hunger, and chaos in her early life, the physical challenge of a broken back when she was a child and later severe tuberculosis, and much later again breast cancer. She loved her father and mother and her brothers and sisters (all 13 of them) deeply.

My Mother, Bernice (known for many years as Sam or Sammy to her friends and much of our family), not only survived, but she thrived. Never once in my memory, did she live a day not guided by her natural grace, belief in the fundamental goodness of all people, and desire to serve those less fortunate. And she did it all with a smile and a kind word or gentle touch for everyone.

She discovered the virtues of education on her own— inspired by a few wonderful teachers, and was able to complete her Nurses Training, thanks to the Army Cadet Nursing Corp, during the dark years of WWII, and then much later her Bachelor's degree and finally her Master's degree.

She was a devoted wife to my Father, and I understand now that was, at times, no easy thing. But they forged a partnership that worked for them and later in life they enjoyed traveling the world together. But true to her character (and his) every trip was preceded by copious amounts of research and study and a desire to learn about and embrace all cultures— however, different they might be from our own.

Mom, Mama, to my sister Robin, was a wonderful mother. She was loving and supportive, always. She opened for me the wonderful worlds of literature and science and imparted her love of learning to us both. In junior high and high school I was reading works she suggested, that she had encountered in college. I'm sure my teachers didn't quite know what to think. But moreover her mantra, was "try to do something good today for someone else" This she offered most readily when she could tell I had turned inward and was feeling down, "offer a smile" "everyone is deserving of your respect" she would say.

While it is for my children, Thanasi, Iliana and Peter and for Robin's son Marshall Austin to say, from my perspective she was a good and loving grandmother. After her move to Connecticut, I was forever grateful that she was able to participate more fully in my children's lives. She was so very proud of all of you. She loved every musical performance, every game, swim meet or regatta, and every graduation. And, Marshall, I think you know how much she loved you.

After My Dad passed away, we moved my Mom to Connecticut to live at the Greens— an Assisted Living Facility. She was 80. She embraced this new community and soon, not surprising to me, of course, became well liked and perhaps even loved. I can not remember how many times I saw her pat a shoulder gently, or go out of her way to help other residents. She visited some friends daily, and for hours at a time, as they faced sickness and even death.

She led an active life both physically and intellectually until these very last few years. She was always a great walker and could be seen propelling her walker around the beautiful grounds. She took language lessons, went to exercise class, art lectures and music recitals. She even rediscovered tap dancing and performed in several "talent shows" to the delight of all.

In these last few years, my mother has suffered from dementia, perhaps Alzheimer's disease. My son Thanasi, put it best when he said, "Grandma is floating in time" and indeed that sometimes seemed so very true. But despite this, her smile was always at the ready and she thought of others before herself and still sought to provide comfort and care.

I hope at the last, my mom's perception became keen again, and she saw clearly all of her loved ones that have preceded her. If there is a heaven, they were rushing to open the gates for her. And true to form, she has taken up a post at the Pearly Gates where she kindly greets each new soul and offers them a gentle touch and a kind word.

My dear ordinary, extraordinary mother. How we all will miss you...