Anne Marie Wendel

"There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy." A quote from Hamlet, and, I think, something to moor my thoughts as I write of my mother. While there are many gifts one can receive from their parents, I think that this encompasses one trait which she helped instill in me: the reminder that, while science is a bedrock upon which we should found our most concrete principles of society, any scientist worth their salt will tell you it is not objective truth, but rather our best understanding of objective truth, and that we must remember it will always shift and change as we learn more.

My mother believed to an extent in psychic phenomena, such as recalling hearing my grandmother speak to her in the night, or seeing a 'golden aura' about me to reference my desire to be kind. While I haven't any such experiences to lend credence for me myself to such things, I still welcome the idea that they may exist; and most importantly, even while we rely on science to advance and better our species and society, we should retain open minds to the possibility of the strange and the unknown.

She wrote of tarot mysteries, of a psychic protagonist and their adventures in her unpublished book. She had a creative mind that she liked to explore, as do I. And her willingness to share this with me helped me to realize that sense of wonder and openness to possibility, as practical as I can be.

So too did she aspire to kindness. Our house was rife with stray cats throughout my childhood; perhaps to excess in some respects, but in that love for the cats that led us to care for them, I found my own mooring in kindness, especially for creatures that depend on us utterly. It helped me found my own principles in compassion and empathy, and while she (and I) didn't and don't always succeed in our aspirations, to aspire to such is, itself, critical in an age and a modern culture where, all too often, cruelty is seen as some kind of strength -- a failing which I believe will continue to threaten us constantly in the years to come.

I write this obituary from my perspective as her son, and in what her traits and efforts led me to adopt; while there is so much more about my mother I cannot commit to a single memoriam, I felt the best way to commemorate her was to recall what I treasure most about what she gave me. In her willingness to explore the unknown, and in her kindness to caring for cats and other animals, I found some of my aspects I value greatly.

Thank you for everything, Mom. For open-mindedness, for kindness, for empathy. I hope in peace you get to explore some of the unknowns we cannot in life; and that every single creature you loved comes to greet you on the other end of the Rainbow Bridge.