Mr. Joyce Takes on the World

One Year and One After Life             July 26 th marks one year since the death of my mother. It feels like it just happened ten minutes ago.             I don’t have any big celebrations planned, or any sort of memorial. Truth be told, I’m so busy with living now that I haven’t had the chance to process it. So, instead, I’m going to concentrate on where I’m at now in life.             I can’t believe I’m 38 years old. June 6 th was my first birthday without my mother. It’s also the second time I flew back from England, and she wasn’t there to ask me, “How was it? Did you meet the Queen? Is Duchess Kate just as pretty in real life?”             The answers would be, “Extraordinary. No, I haven’t. You know she is!”     ...

Plastic Lilacs It rained the night before my mother’s funeral. I had both seen and met Lindsey Stirling for the second time that night. That’s another story—one that included a mention of my mother by Sister Stirling, while in concert. She dedicated the song Take Flight to her memory that night, for which I’m greatly touched. I recalled that it rained the previous time I saw Lindsey. But this time I was escorted by the first of many viceroy butterflies. They would follow me for the rest of the summer—whether in America, or across the pond. They seemed to guide and comfort me. I’ve written about them before, yet they continue to mystify me.              Melanie, a friend from university, came to pick me up that morning. She had one of her children with her—the youngest boy, about a year old. He looked at me, as we sat in the funeral home parking lot. I had been all nerves on the way over, and now young Segin was onl...

Dear Mom,             It’s been a month since I last spoke to you. I’m sorry for that, but as you know, I’ve been busy. I’ve moved twice, switched jobs, and completed another term at university. Though I spoke to you just the other night, it wasn’t a proper conversation. There’s a lot I’m thinking of this Christmas.             First, it doesn’t feel like Christmas. Not just because the snow has melted. The mood just isn’t there. It hasn’t been for some time. At least the temperatures are mild, and the roads are clear. You’d appreciate that.             I keep having memories to previous Christmas Days. I remember gifts I’d gotten—like the blue dinosaur sleeping back when I was nine. I remember other things too. Every Christmas, you’d put a Mad Magazine , a Medieval or space Lego kit, and a Lifesavers Book i...

The Yew Tree and The Viceroys I expected to have dreams about my mother after she died. While I haven't actually seen her this way, I have had one dream. I dreamed that I had gone to Ireland by boat, in order to plant her ashes into the ground. In this dream I dug a small hole into a field near the sea. With the sound of the waves in the background, I carefully placed her ashes into that hole, and then covered it with dirt. Within a matter of seconds a yew tree stood where her ashes had been buried. It was about as tall as me, and the branches were full, and sprouted berries. I took this as a sign of growth and rebirth. Just as the ancient Celts believed that life with return with every spring, I saw this dream as a similar promise. Currently, my sisters and I are in disagreement on what to do with mother's ashes. She had wanted to be buried, but we couldn't afford it. So, eldest sister suggested either burying them, or placing them in a ma...

This is the eulogy I delivered for my Mom. Her funeral was today, July 29th, 2016.  A wise man once said, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered to get through this thing we call life.” How does one summarize a life? I'm not sure. So I won't attempt to summarize sixty-nine years in only a few minutes. Instead, I will give some highlights from Mom's life. Her favorite books were Lonesome Dove , and The Thornbirds . She loved the music of The Bee-Gees, Hall and Oates, and Prince (hence the reference). She drank more tea than the entire population of Great Britain. Her favorite movies were The Deer Hunter , Gone With the Wind , and The Bishop's Wife . She loved Tom Selleck. Anything Tom Selleck. We used to watch Blue Bloods together, and the Jesse Stone movies.   And Mom had a fondness for knicknacks and any food that contained sugar—believe me. She could also cook a mean steak, and taught me the secret of great pork chops; which my vegetarian friends wi...