Monday, August 30, 2021
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Grandma,
I’ve thought about what I would say at your funeral for over 11-years. I’ve had many emotions during that time – frustration, deep sadness, regret, happiness, and resentment. As much as I want to resent your diagnosis, I cannot – your diagnosis taught me at 17-years old, that life can be taken from you at any moment. It taught me to slow down and prioritize my relationships rather than going through the motions of kissing relatives and continuing with whatever I was doing in that moment. By slowing down, I am able to reflect on a deeper friendship with you and others. It also taught me to pour my heart into cards, something I never cared about previously. The emotion I want to focus on now and for the rest of my days is “grateful.”
I feel grateful. Grateful to spend 27-years of my life with you; grateful to know you; grateful to love you; grateful to have you as a role model; and especially grateful to have you as my grandma. You were the definition of grace, beauty, humility, and family. You always knew how to set the mood and bring a smile to everyone’s faces. The love you had radiated to everyone in the room – my social butterfly. I was always amazed by you.
You showed me how to love others by the way you loved your friends and family. I cannot even say strangers because you made friends with strangers on the bus, grocery stores, and everywhere you went.
To bring some light to this dark day, I’d like to share a few memories.
• Grandma was the only person who would drive with me when I first got my license and she only held on to the handle for the first 5-minutes. We always had a blast on our little trips. I would say “weeeeeee” whenever I made the turn into the neighborhood just to make her laugh. We blasted music and talked about life, goals, and my moving to college.
• She used to sit me on the counter (along with Matt) to make French toast. She would laugh at us for how much syrup we used to (and possibly still do) put on it.
• She would drop everything she was doing to make us food including shells, stuffed artichoke, eggplant parmesan, and every other Italian dish. A lot of my memories with her surround food which means you will be able to find me crying in every aisle at the grocery store. This started the day she died.
• Grandma always loved Matlock so I have many memories of her as a young teen watching Matlock together. She loved mysteries and I found out years later that she had many Steven King books in her condo.
• Matt and I used to play many games in her house in Staten Island. I used to call her wardrobe, the wardrobe from “The Lion, the witch, and the wardrobe” book. I was able to hide in it at the time. Something I’ve clearly outgrown.
• Of course, I have many memories with her surrounding the Catholic holidays. We loved coloring eggs and having Easter egg hunts at Easter, watching “Home Alone” and cuddling on the couch at Christmas. She also used to take my brother and me to a nearby pond to feed bread to the ducks.
• Every day was a party at the Erdelyi house when grandma moved in. She loved singing and dancing (preferably with partners) to Engelbert, Elvis, Tom Jones, Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, and others. So much so, that we all now know the lyrics to every song.
Grandma, I hope you know how loved you are. Every time I look at the ring you gave my mom for her 16th, I’ll know you’re close by. I know you’ll be rooting for our family during every future interview, new job or retirement party, house change, or life step. I know you’ll be dancing in heaven with grandpa when Matt gets married next year and when it’s my turn. I’ll know you’ll be laughing beside us at every holiday and birthday. I know you’ll be telling us to “stop” in your accent when we get mad and start cursing. I know you’ll be holding our hands when we feel alone.
Although, I had to say “bye” to your physical body, you will always have a home inside of me. You are the light within me that shines on the darkest of days. You are the part of me that keeps on giving when I’m tired. You are my strength when I am weak. You are my happiness when I am sad. You are my inner host when I feel too anxious to be at a gathering.
Until next time, my love.
(718) 761-5544 | 
matthewfh@matthewfuneralhome.com | 
2508 Victory Boulevard, Staten Island, NY 10314
(718) 761-5544
matthewfh@matthewfuneralhome.com