My mother, Dee Olsen, died very suddenly, without any forewarning, on Sunday morning, October 4, 1998. This is what I said at her service:

A good friend of mine recently told me "Tom, you have a gift for finding the positive side of all situations." I agree with him that that is my nature. I have never had to apply that trait to the death of one of my parents. But sure enough, whether it is good, bad or indifferent, I find myself doing this regarding my mom's death.

Some examples:

• My mom's death has provided an opportunity to bring together my dad, my sister Judy, my brothers Bob and Jim and me to remember our deep love and respect for my mother and remind us of our love and respect for each other.
• My mom's death has reminded each member of my family that we each have good friends, like you here today, and others, that care about us and are sympathetic to the deep hurt we feel from the loss of our mother. In this time of loss, it is family and friends that hold us together.
• My mom's death has caused me to open my eyes, be introspective and examine my life knowing it won't last forever.
• My mom's death has caused my family, Judi, Tommy, Jackson and I to look at each other anew realizing how precious we are to each other.

In order to express my thoughts clearly, I would like to read to you this open letter to my mother:

"Dear Mom, I am a lot like you in that I have never worn my feelings on my sleeve. I remember riding in the car with you once as a child and your looking at me and saying "A penny for your thoughts". Even with that generous offer and your direct request, I did open my thoughts to you that day. I was a quiet boy as I am a quiet man. So I would like to explain to you some of what I am feeling about your death. Believe it or not, I feel a lot of joy. Not joy at your death, but joy at your life. It gives me great pleasure to know that, in the game of life, you were an absolute winner. A person's life can be measured by what they left behind. You created, molded and left behind four children who are happy, successful and at least reasonably well adjusted. Each of your children are productive members of society. You lived long enough to see us grow up, thrive and have wonderful children of our own.

Dear Mom, and Dad, I am sure you will never forget, as I will never forget, that Sunday morning a few years ago when I called you at the beach. Something had struck me that until I made things completely right with my parents, my life would never be completely right. On that day, I told you some things that I know every parent must yearn to hear from their children and, in fact, I hope to hear from my children someday. I told you that I was very happily married. That I had wonderful children. That my career was a success and that I loved my work. And, most important, I told you how happy I am in my life. And then I thanked you and dad for the wonderful job you did in raising me and in teaching me your wisdom. I told you that I hope I am as good a parent to my children as you were to me. On that day, I acknowledged you privately as being wonderful parents to your children. Even over the phone, I could feel, down to my very soul, the absolute joy it gave you to hear me say those things. They say that the only way to receive love is to give it away. On that day, I did give away my love to you and it did come right back to me. I remember that for the next few months, whenever I called you for any reason, dad would get on the phone too, I think simply because he wanted to hear me say those things again.

So mom, and dad, today, in front of these people, our friends and our family, I wish to acknowledge you again for the wonderful parents you are. You have given us your love, support, advice, your time and your wisdom. You have literally made me a person who can be very happily married, who can have wonderful children, who can be successful in business and who can be happy in life.

Dear Mom, there is at least one aspect of your death that is very sad to me. It is simply that you won't be here to watch your children continue to thrive. You won't see me do my first "Olsen on Law" TV show. You won't see Tommy do his first wake board flip. You won't see Jackson drive a car for the first time. You won't be with us next Christmas, which is right around the corner. Who will carry on the tradition of eggs benedict on smoked turkey on Christmas morning? Maybe you will see these things from where you are. We don't know. But no matter what, your spirit, your blood, your wisdom will be with me always.

I love you mom and I miss you."

As my sister and brothers can attest, we grew up sitting down to the dinner table at exactly 7 o'clock every night. My mom was a wonderful cook and always laid out a great meal for us. Thereupon my dad would begin one of his many different lectures. We kids had heard these lectures so many times that we actually assigned numbers to them. So that within hearing a few words from my dad, one of us would chirp in and say "Oh, boy, here comes lecture number 19 again". "Dad", back then I called them lectures, but I now see them as underlying principals you taught me by which to guide my life. The one that comes to mind now, I think it was lecture number 14, was about how you could die tomorrow and you would feel satisfied that you led a full and complete life. I always felt that it had something to do with your service in the air force. In those few years of military service, I know you had a lifetime of experiences. That lecture has helped me lead a life that, so far, does not include the thoughts of "what might have been".

So, as a final expression of my seeing the positive in every situation, please let my mom's death be a reminder to each of you here today that life is fragile. It can be over in an instant. As with my mom, there is not always a chance to say good bye. When I called my mom that Sunday morning and acknowledged to her my own happiness in life, the circle our mother/son relationship was complete, for her, and for me.