[Eulogy read at 09/19/2025 service]

Unlike my mother, I do not enjoy  public speaking.  She blossomed in the lights and applause and, frankly, she would have LOVED this.

Thank you for joining me and my family in our final farewell to Silviana Wood – my mom.

Like most artists, my mom was difficult to pin down.  Her thoughts and actions were like birds startled into flight.  Growing up, I felt that she had an almost ghostly presence – in the room but always somewhere else.  

She was most present in her stories.   They were her anchor.  They were her bearable reality and, truthfully, our only fleeting glimpse of the real Silviana.

When writing, she invented her worlds, her language, her characters-herself.  She did that in real life as well.

As we talk and share,I am positive there will be countless versions of the woman for whom we are all here.    Thank you for sharing your stories about the hundreds of Silvianas I did not know.

Today, I say goodbye to the mom I knew – probably very different from the mom my sister had and different still from my brother’s mom.  

While I would never use the word “orthodox” to describe her mothering, I will absolutely credit her for directly or indirectly teaching me empathy, resilience, humor, compassion, adaptability, independence, integrity, strength – and so much more.  

Here are some tidbits courtesy of the mother I was given:

• My mom taught me to talk to trees, smile at flowers, and to listen to the wind.  
• She made me fall in love with John Steinbeck by handing me “Grapes of Wrath” and telling me this was my summer reading assignment.
• My mom is the only reason I agreed to see “Jesus Christ Superstar”.
• She let me dance alone in the backyard in her discarded chiffon nightgown. I realized later that she had secretly watched from the kitchen window when she laughingly called me Isadora Duncan.
• My mom tasked me to proofread her dissertation and plays so many times that the characters became real to me.
• She despised lying and liars.  If we were trying to avoid a phone call, she’d make us run and stand just outside the front door before she’d say we weren’t home.
• My mom loved when I’d polish her toenails bright red while pointedly ignoring my very severe foot aversion.
• When I was crying because I hadn’t read the assigned book in college, she plunked a huge library edition dictionary in front of me and told me to just look up the terms and characters listed in the study guide.  I got an A.
• My mom shared that the secret to the best, juiciest Thanksgiving Turkey is baking it in a sealed brown grocery bag that has been thickly coated in butter.
• She helped me avoid peer pressure by giving me the words and  permission to say “I can’t.  My mom’s a bitch.” 
• My mom patiently and slowly -syllable by syllable- taught me to correctly pronounce the most vulgar insult in Spanish.  I won’t say it here, but come see me afterwards.
• She taught me it’s okay to eat alone.
• My mom repeatedly told me “follow your bliss”.
• She taught me to NEVER shy away from adventures (especially if it involved travel) and to ALWAYS stand up for myself.
• I rolled my eyes when my mom returned from her errands and announced “I found a cutie for you at the bank.”  Nice work, mom because that cutie is my husband of almost 31 years. 
• Because of my mom, I learned to be a better mom to my own two children.  For that alone and above everything, I am eternally grateful for her hard lessons.

I can count on one hand the times I have ever known my mom to cry.  She hid her vulnerable emotions behind a marble facade which can be very baffling.

As I stand here holding back emotions I have no desire to share, I suddenly understand her just a little bit better.

Wherever and whatever the afterlife holds, I am certain she has already stolen a pen and is scribbling her next novel on the back of a piece of scratch paper.

Yesterday, while gathering her writings, I found 3 fortune cookie slips tucked near her keyboard:

• You will never need to worry about a steady income
• You will attract cultured and artistic people to your home
• You will be recognized and honored as a community leader

Please join me in her final standing ovation.