I Love You, Mom. We Love You. We Are Very Proud to be Your Sons

Eulogy for My Mother, Mollie Gaines Smith

My Mom, Mollie Gaines Smith, passed away on Monday, September 8, 2025. She leaves behind family and countless friends who love her and cherish her memory. My brother, Brooken, wrote a beautiful obituary which captured her essence perfectly. My eulogy is below.

There is a special, sacred bond between mothers and sons. Brooken and I certainly felt that.

In our family vacations to Nassau; in driving us on innumerable trips to comic book and baseball card shops; in supporting us at Odyssey of the Mind competitions; in taking us to the 1990 World Series; in schlepping Brooken around to basketball games and swim meets; in attending our debates at college; in cheering for our triumphs and crying at our defeats, Mom showed us her unwavering love every day.

What is a mother? We have a view of a mother as this soft, tender creature, always cradling and nurturing her child. That vision carries a side of the truth. And there is another side - the protective mother, perhaps even fierce when needed. The mama bear. The lioness. I’d like to share two stories where Mom revealed both those visions of motherhood.

To me, what epitomizes Mom’s love were the months following my open heart surgery in 1985. To regain my strength, she made me walk the length of the Mall or Oxmoor and back, every single day. Sometimes she had to encourage me, other times cajole, and a few times even threaten me. But she knew how crucial those walks were to my long-term recovery and health; she was caring passionately for me, even if there was an occasional prod to keep me going.

Around my 13th birthday, Dad was working late one night. Mom took us to the old sporting goods store near the old Hawley-Cooke Booksellers on Shelbyville Road. She got Brooken and me a new bat and baseball. We came home and started playing in the yard. Brooken pitched to me, and I whacked the ball right back, hitting his face and splitting open his lip. I freaked, and ran inside to get Mom. She ushered us into the car to head to the emergency room to get Brooken’s lip looked at. Brooken sat in the back seat, and in my panic, as he reached behind to get his seat belt, I slammed the door on his fingers. Woah boy! Brooken got the caring, nurturing Mom that night. I got the unhappy, upset lioness Mom that night.

Another story spotlights Mom’s quiet dignity. Our family enjoyed some of its best moments in Nassau. One time, Mom went down to the beach, perhaps her favorite place in the world. About 15 minutes later, we saw a small crowd of people head to the beach, and very soon, Mom walked back up to the cottage. I was puzzled, because Mom usually stayed longer at the beach, but I was reading and I didn’t think much of it. A short while later, I saw an elegant, red-headed woman walk up to the cottage. It was Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York – she’d had a photo shoot on the beach, and she had come to apologize to Mom for forcing her off the beach. I couldn’t see the exchange, but Mom was a big fan of the Royals. I can imagine the grace with which Mom greeted the Duchess, and the deep impression that moment made in her life.

I have one last story to share that, to me, highlights Mom’s sometimes impish sense of humor. It happened during her first bout of cancer in 2006. After surgery in Knoxville, she had some drainage and she asked her doctor, “Do you know why it’s orange?” He looked at her curiously, as if to give some complicated medical answer. Then she got a sparkling glint in her eye and said, “Because we’re in Tennessee. Everything is orange here.”

Brooken and I wish to offer our love and thanks to our wives, Katie and Kathleen, who have taken on many duties across these years so that he and I could be there for Mom. Brooken and I wish to offer our heartfelt gratitude to a veritable army of Mom’s friends and other family members, who drove her to medical appointments, visited her in the hospital or home, and have performed such generous acts on Mom’s behalf and on ours – too many people have given their time and energy to Mom to name here, but we treasure them all. We also want to sincerely thank Mom’s doctors, nurses and staff at: Norton Healthcare, Baptist Health, OneMD, Kindred Hospital, University of Louisville Hospital, University of Tennessee Medical Center, and Memorial Sloan Kettering, and her Malone Homecare nurses - so many of whom were devoted to Mom far beyond the bounds of a job. You have exhibited such beautiful acts of love and faithfulness again and again. Thank you.

I wish to close by speaking with Mom’s granddaughters, because if she enjoyed anything as much as being Mom to Brooken and me, it was in being Amama to Abby, Ellie, Beatrice, Lucy and Cordelia. I hope you will carry forth three teachings from Amama’s life:

First, your Amama loved you. She loved being with you five – in Nassau, Sea Island, taking you for mani-pedis, attending your musical and ballet shows or sports games, or simply having you spend the night at her house. Amama was a supremely singular woman. And she knows you are each growing into a special, unique young lady. Amama never felt ashamed about her life, her originality. Go be you.

Second, you have witnessed so many years and examples of Amama’s toughness. Even in the face of immense pain and struggle, she never lost her fighting will to live. Persistence, grit, determination – these are indispensable qualities in a world that accepts defeat too easily, and throws up its hands at the first obstacle. Be tenacious. And remember that some people love vague, grandiose ideas. Others love life. Amama loved life; she reveled in the warm waters of Nassau, the dazzling lights of Paris and the quiet comforts of home. Love life.

Third, a profound lesson about Amama’s life centers on her sister, Aunt Mary. Over the past 8 years especially, you have witnessed unparalleled selfless devotion and sisterly love from Aunt Mary. She sat and visited with Amama for hours every single day. She ran countless errands for Amama. She spent an enormous amount of her life dedicated to Amama’s care. There is an old saying: “our life is our message.” I hope you will absorb Aunt Mary’s message and example of sisterhood in your own lives.

I love you Mom. We love you. Brooken and I are very proud to be your sons.

Mom and her newborn son, me