Celebrating Carol

I haven't blogged in several months, as I knew I couldn't write another post until I shared a tribute to Carol. We lost Matt's mom in March and it's been difficult finding out what life's like without hearing her voice and seeing her smile in real time.

Last weekend, Matt, John and I went to Montana to celebrate her life and join in a memorial with her family and friends in Butte.

At the memorials in Munster (IN) and Butte (MT), I shared a version of the following eulogy:

Hi, as most of you know, I'm Diane, and I have had the honor of being Carol's daughter in law the last seven years. 


Before I met Matt, I didn't think I would find myself being a daughter in law to anyone. 


And before I met Carol, I didn't think I would find that my mother in law would be one of my favorite people. 


When I met Carol, I found her unbelievably sweet and humble and I was delighted to find a wry sense of humor that cut through the sweetness like ice cream on pie. 


I certainly didn't think I would later find out that she was the first woman ever to get a master's in metallurgical engineering from Montana Tech. 

But that's Carol. All quiet tenacity and good-natured toughness. Humble, but driven. 


Carol was born in Butte, Montana on November 1, 1948 to Ryan and Jeanette Trythall. She was one of four siblings: two boys, two girls. Brothers Bruce and Jerry and little sister Nellie. The family was close, sharing a warm but very cozy home by 2012 standards, with only one bathroom for six people.  


After high school, Carol attended Montana Tech and pursued an engineering degree. Male professors suggested that her seat might better be filled by a man, but she kept on. 


In a lab at Montana Tech, she met her future husband, John. Matt and I pilgrimaged a few years back and stood outside the lab door, the site of the meeting of two amazing minds and two generous hearts. John and Carol built a love and devotion to one another that is truly exemplary. 


John’s family welcomed Carol with open arms and of course fell in love with her too, as anyone with any sense did. Education and job opportunities took Carol and John from Montana, to Idaho, Missouri, Utah and eventually settling in Indiana. 


Along the way, Matt joined the family. Carol was thrilled to become a mother and supported everything her sensitive, talented, outrageously tall son took on. She's embued him with her sweetness, quiet tenacity, and commitment to showing up for those he loves and what is important. He works hard, as his parents showed him. 


Carol gave her heart and soul to her work in the steel industry and built many lasting friendships that continued after she retired. Carol never took her family or friends for granted. She was a fierce friend, the empathetic soul of her family, and a beautiful spirit to all who met her. 


Author Eric Hoffer wrote that "rudeness is the weak man's imitation of strength." In the decade I've known her, I never once saw Carol imitate strength at someone else's expense. Instead, she taught everyone she touched about how to live with a generous, quiet strength. Everything she did, everything she stands for is about gently but firmly pushing forward, past when most of us would have dropped out, stopped trying, or at least had a moment when we looked up and questioned God or the universe for doling out an unfair share of challenges. 

They say so much of life is showing up. Carol showed up for her family, showed up for her education and her career and her colleagues. She showed up for her life. She showed up for each moment no matter how difficult. In the last year, even though it was hard and painful for her to get in and out of a car, Carol showed up for us even if it hurt. Backyard barbeques, birthdays, Thanksgiving, she fought for the traditions we all cherish. 


We have a longstanding and very special tradition of holiday tea at a different hotel or restaurant downtown Chicago each year—Carol, my mom and I started going in 2005 and would make our reservations in late summer to get our spot for December. My mom and I talked and we thought we'd just have a private little tea at Carol's condo last year so she and the guys didn't have to go to all the trouble of getting downtown and in and out of the car. But she very sweetly overruled us. She wanted to have the full experience, so we did. We went to the historic Palmer House hotel, had our tea in the balcony, and even chatted with beautiful ballet dancers in full Nutcracker costume. A few days before Carol passed, I learned that she had shared the experience with John and her dear friend Karen and emphasized the impression the male ballet dancer's tight tights had made on her! There's that wry sense of humor again. Needless to say, our tea tradition will continue in Carol's honor and I know she'll show up each year to join us in spirit.