Rest in Peace, Mom

My mom passed away on Feb. 20, 2026—6 years and 361 days after my dad passed away. Just like with my dad’s death, it was expected. My mom—my anomaly of a mom with her indestructible stamina—had been on hospice for more than 2 years. She spent 4 months in her home in NJ on hospice with me as her primary caregiver, then she moved in with my sister in CT in April 2024, where she spent the remainder of her life. And as our parents’ caregivers for basically the last 7 years, my sister & I are reconciling both grief and relief (side note: parental caregiving and custodial care of my parents’ estate for 7+ years has nearly destroyed my nervous system, but that’s a post for another day).

As we experienced with my dad’s services, funeral planning is a whirlwind of tiny tasks that are more exhausting than they sound on paper. (We even had a lot pre-planned!). My mom’s services were in NJ on Fri 2/27 and Sat 2/28 and dare I say, her funeral was sold out. So many people loved my mom, or were just touched by her unconditional kindness. Of course for me, the otrovert (or introvert—can’t decide) that normally lives quietly in the woods, this was a full-blown obstacle course navigating chats with so many people I haven’t seen in years and hugs from near-strangers. People process their grief at you unintentionally—some people grabbed me so tightly & gave me intense eye contact. I’m also an empath, so I absorbed a lot of people’s grief. But that part is over. My own grief of losing my mom/losing my last parent will be the work of months/years. And I am sure I will process it out loud here on the blog.

In the meantime, I wanted to share the eulogy I wrote (with contributions from family) for her.

My name is Patrice, and I’m Ruth’s youngest daughter. 

First of all, as Ruth would say, Hiya! On behalf of myself, my sister, Janice, Ruth’s grandkids Ryan & Sarah, and her sons-in-law Justin & Scott, we want to thank you all for coming today. It’s great to see so many of you are here. Whether you called her Mom, Nana, Ruth Ann, Ruthie, Aunt Ruth, Mrs. Kopec, Mrs. K, Mama K, the crowd speaks volumes as to how much she was loved.  

They say you die as you lived. My mom was late for everything, and quite frankly after 2+ years on hospice, she was basically late to her own funeral. 

Regardless, we all know she would hate this. She wouldn’t want anyone to fuss over “little ol’ me,” as she would often say. 

Never wanting to put anyone out, we also all know that if she could, she would be asking her famous question:

“Can I help you with something?” 

As a rule, she had to ask you 3+ times if you wanted help … even when it was to move something double her weight & size up 10 flights of stairs. 

The caretaking, volunteering, and self sacrifice goes way deep into Ruth’s family lineage. 

It started with helping her mom take care of her nana until Ruth was 11 years old. 

As the oldest in a family of four, she grew up surrounded by family, living in the same four-plex with her aunts, uncles & cousins. Many other extended family lived all around Jersey City, so there was always some gathering with lots of laughs … and lots of food as is typical in big Italian-Irish families. As kids, she, her brother Freddie and the older cousins would travel to South Jersey to swim, and even though Ruthie’s lips were purple, she was shivering and clearly hypodermic, she was too stubborn to get out of the water until her cousins did. 

Her chore growing up was ironing, and she hated it. Almost in a fit of rebellion, she would burn everyone’s clothing. She didn’t want her own clothes ironed, and anytime her mom ironed them, she would throw them on the floor, step all over them & roll them up to cause wrinkles again. Even as late in life as Thanksgiving of 2023, her sister, Janet, ironed her outfit, but Ruth threw her tantrum. 

Ruth met our father, John, their senior year of high school in 1963. On their first few dates, Ruth wouldn’t eat any food because she was too embarrassed to eat in front of him. Eventually, their dates were often at her house or her cousins’ houses revolving around endless food. 

For 13 months while our dad was in Vietnam, her brother, Joe, remembers that she would sit and stare blankly into space while stirring her coffee for minutes, with her head in the clouds as she would say. Much to the chagrin of her family, she also wouldn’t bathe because she thought if he couldn’t bathe, she shouldn’t. She wrote him countless letters waiting for him. 

When John returned, they married in 1969. While she might not have been the best homemaker—she would admit she burned even water & a TV dinner made for a good meal—she was born to be a mother. 

She was a class mom through elementary school for both of us, attended all sporting and club events & drove Janice & I around everywhere we needed to go. She was extremely overprotective; she wouldn’t even let us sit in the front seat of the car until high school & it had to officially be the first day of summer on June 21 before we could swim in the neighbors’ pools & the lake. 

Even after Janice & I left home, she still was a super mom. Whether it was waiting for us to “ring the phone once” when we got to where were going, calling us at the exact time of our birth every year—no matter the time zone—or never failing to remind us when we had to set our clocks ahead or back for Daylight Savings, she was there for us. 

Ruth kept the post office in business, mailing cards & packages for every holiday. No niece, nephew—or even great niece or nephew—had their birthday pass without a card from Aunt Ruth signed “Luv, Meeee,” as well as a phone call with her famous “Hiya!” 

Side note, if anyone needs to know their address or phone number from 20 years ago, Ruth has every single one stored in her exploding black address book, and we still have that book. 

She continued her motherly ways with her two grandchildren, Ryan & Sarah. She would drive up to Connecticut on short notice to babysit. She was the best playmate & made up games all the time, like Huckle Buckle Beanstalk, Counting Sticks & Secret Room. She would always take the kids to parks & even rode bikes with them until she was 69 years old! 

Always a star volunteer over the years & deeply religious in her Catholic faith, Our Lady of the Lake Church was the biggest recipient of her services with the school, Bingo, the Christmas pageant, rosary, Columbiettes, communion service & eucharistic ministry. 

She prayed for everything, even a hangnail. 

This church meant so much to her—with happy memories between Janice & Patrice receiving their sacraments and even getting married here—but also sad moments like these. 

When her physical volunteering days ended, she continued her goodwill by giving donations to just about every charity out there and treating anyone she could to a meal at a restaurant. 

On her diet of instant coffee, cigarettes, chocolate pudding and cheese, two-thirds of her body weight was enthusiasm. If you never witnessed her eat every morsel on her overflowing plate, you clearly have missed out. 

She approached life like a dog … with boundless energy & gentleness. 

She believed each person she passed was a friend she just hadn’t met yet. For those she did know, she made you feel like you were the most important person in the world in that moment. When you talked with her, her entire attention was undivided, like a bright light.

After someone dies, everyone pretends like they were perfect. Ruth wasn’t perfect, but she had a near-perfect moral compass. She saw the good in everyone and set the bar high for empathy, humility, compassion, kindness, grace, patience, selflessness & forgiveness. 

It’s hard to find a person who was so loved by everyone. 

She might have had cold hands, but always a warm heart. Even though she is gone, we can all hope the legacy of her best qualities live on a little bit in each of us. 

Rest in Peace, Ruthie. Enjoy the biggest cups of coffee and lots of snacks in heaven with God.