Sheila Unsworth 1929-2009

Mom's Eulogy

Sheila Unsworth was born 80 years ago in St Helens, England to Charlotte and Edward Furlong. Surrounded by loving sisters and a brother her early life was shaped by a sparse living, yet wonderful camaraderie. In the words of her sister Kathleen, "As a family we were interested in anything and everything, and had an opinion on anything and everything. The trouble is we were all reluctant to relinquish a firmly held belief" It would be the bedrock of Mom's outlook on life, although her tolerance of other views and beliefs would inspire us all.

Our mothers early teenage years were spent living through World War II. As we grew older we quietly listened as she told of the horrors of the air raids & bombings. The rationing of staples that lasted well past the war would instill her belief in not wasting anything, be it food, fabric, or money.

Mom went to College and then taught school in Luton and Liverpool. While she taught school for only four years she spent her life teaching us about the wonders of the world and its people. 

At 20, she met Jim, three years later; a 57 year marriage was born. The boys, Michael and David were born, and six months after David's birth Mom followed our Dad to the United States, landing in New York City. Our life in the new world had begun. Julie and Valerie soon arrived and our mother began setting up a new life in Ravenna, Ohio.

Mom pined for her family left behind in England. It had not been easy to leave her sisters, brother, Mum and Dad. The stories she could weave about her younger days would fascinate us. She always strove to keep her English heritage and traditions. Soon our many friends in Ohio would come to appreciate Boxing Day and the English candies and comic books that would arrive by parcel from England. We had bragging rights because our mother taught at the same school that "Paul McCartney" had attended in Liverpool. This was big stuff in Ravenna as the Beatles hit it big.

As many of you here today know, Sheila could strike a conversation with anyone and within minutes she knew all about you, your family, and what you could tell her that she did not know. She could always extract some sort of information from you even if you were not in the mood to talk. She had a curiosity and openness about people and places that was never satisfied

While she could be the inquisitor she also made our home the place where people loved to hangout. Many of our friends felt that they could often share with our Mom things that they couldn't even talk to their own parents about. She was always a good shoulder to lean on and perhaps even cry upon. 

For twenty years she worked for the Record-Courier newspaper. A perfect job for Mom; she was able to ask questions and inquire to as many people as she could contact. Then she got to write about those wonderful interactions. She had a passion for writing. She loved the written word both in newsprint and books. To this day her house has books about places and things that would fascinate her.

Friendships in Ohio blossomed and matured for 35 years. Even today she remains close friends to the many good people of Ravenna that helped nurture our family. 

As our family gradually migrated westward to Portland, Mom and Dad struggled with a decision to follow their children. It meant leaving many good friends behind to become active grandparents to their grandchildren. Soon however, her calendar was planned around the grandchildren's events. A cherry tree in her back yard became a part of a strong family tradition where we could establish strong roots and grow, it is now known as the "family tree". Yearly photographs in the tree chart the family's growth. The day of her death her grandkids again climbed the tree in her honor. She was the heart of the family and loved her nine grandchildren dearly. Her arms provided many a cuddle for a grandchild, her ears listened to their worries, their stories, their music concerts, her smile let them all know they were special, her lap gave them a safe, loving place to sit.

Her love was an example for all. Mom and Dad often called each other "luv" throughout the day in their 57 year marriage. They still loved holding hands. Every night would end with a gentle kiss and "good night & God bless"

Sheila was always a teacher. Education was paramount for both of our parents, but mom insisted that a broad education was the basis of a good person and citizen. She encouraged learning in each of us and on a tight budget managed to put four children through twelve years of Catholic school and then college. 

Sewing was beyond a passion for her. Mom made fantastic Halloween costumes for us and our children. Homemade clothes, curtains, tablecloths and much more were her forte. She made a gorgeous wedding dress for Julie that was also worn by Nancy and Hilary at their weddings. Her sewing room was her granddaughters place to get away for special time with Nanny. 

Mom was a great role model for us. She always took up the cause of the less fortunate. She would stand up for African Americans in a community that was not always receptive to those of color. In a mostly unsympathetic community, Mom made sure the voices of students were heard after the Kent State Riots. She championed many causes where it was unpopular for her to do so. Yet she remained friends with those who disagreed with her. She truly believed that all people were created equal. For Thanksgiving, Mom loved to invite Kent State international students over so they had somewhere to go. We would share each other's cultures. It would always lead to quite interesting discussions, especially when a Nigerian student showed up in elaborate robes and informed us that his father had fifteen wives'! Mom volunteered for many different charities, often spearheading a variety. She saw to it that residents in nursing homes that had no visitors would at least have gifts for Christmas

Mom could always make us laugh. She embellished stories to make them just that much funnier. She loved to tell stories about her numerous trips to the emergency room with her children, once because her child was injured by an "unidentified flying object" after neither son would confess to the true details of a head injury requiring stitches. Often, stories of Son Number 1, Son Number 2, Daughter Number 1 and Daughter Number 2 would end up in the newspaper column she wrote for our local paper. More than once a threat of "I will put that in the newspaper if you don't behave!" was enough to make us rethink our behavior.

She believed strongly that the world also had to be seen and not just read about. For our childhood we would pile into the family car and travel across the eastern United States. Often times we would stop at some obscure roadside marker and learn of an area's history. She would teach us words in French as we traveled across Qubec and take us to campfire sing-a-longs in Maine. We would explore the Kennedy Space Center and the wildlife in campgrounds. Our love of the National Parks remains.

On a few occasions we were lucky to return to England to see our relatives. Mom remained very close with all of her relatives even though she has been in this country for 50 years. She missed England very much, even though she had a wonderful new life in America. She found a bit of England in a group of tea loving friends in the Daughters of the British Empire Chapter here in Portland. In this fun group of ladies she found many close friends and good neighbors in Oak Hills. 

These past few days as we went through Mom's phone book we are reminded of her lifelong friendships that have been tracked with numerous changes in addresses and phone numbers. It is very thick book that is also filled with lots of doodles since she was an incessant doodler; it is also a testament to lifelong friendships around the country. We have received numerous phone calls over the last few days from friends from many places, and they were each very special and very important to our mom, as all who are gathered here. 

But one amazing piece of paper has caught our eyes as we searched her phonebook the past couple days, a Navajo lullaby, that was not in her phone book a few weeks ago, it is written in her hand and slightly altered from its original form, we would like to close by reading it:

The earth is you mother, she holds you.


The sky is your father, he protects you.


Sleep, sleep.


Rainbow is your sister, she loves you.


The winds are your brothers, they sing to you.


Sleep, sleep.


We are always together.

Navajo