Before I speak about my mother’s life, I want to extend my family’s thanks for your sympathy and support these past few weeks. To our neighbors, friends, and those in the hashing community, we appreciate hearing from you. Whether you traveled a great distance to join us, or if you reached out by phone or Internet, we deeply appreciate your kindness; it means so much. Together, we grieve the loss and celebrate the extraordinary life journey of my mother, who was also a daughter, a sister, an aunt, and friend to all. Whatever her connection was to us, she has also always been a child of God and now stands beside Him to make sure that we all carry forth all of that which she has taught us. Everyone who knows me knows that purple is my favorite color. Some of you might know that “The Lady in Red” also liked purple, just as long as she didn’t have to wear it herself. But there is another reason that I chose to wear purple today. Purple is the color of Easter. Come every spring, purple drapes the alters of most churches as a reminder to Christians that those who believe in Jesus never truly die, but rise again, and have eternal life by the grace of God. Purple means that we should not spend all our time in mourning. It means we should give thanks for the life of such an amazing woman who has touched so many—who was such a great leader, mentor, mother, and friend—and we should celebrate her return home. It’s impossible to some up my mother quickly. My mother was a lovely woman who embodied all of the attributes of a perfect mom. She was caring, thoughtful, hardworking, compassionate, loving and so much more. She was an idol to me my whole life. It was so difficult to think of all of the words that described my mother as a person and how much she meant to me. She loved her family, around which her entire universe revolved. She loved old friends and always welcomed new friends. Not only did I think my mother was beautiful, but she was also passionate about beauty itself. She adored the arts – music, literature, creative writing, poetry, drawing, architecture, design, and she was an amazing artist and poet herself. She had these moments when she was seized with artistic compulsivity, which I watched in awe. She passed all of this on to her children in one way or another – this somewhat compulsive quest for truth whose answers, perfectly enough, are often found in our own creative ways of doing the arts. Her deep appreciation for beauty extended to nature, the Great Outdoors, her keen abilities of identifying with all humanity, and most noble, her universal love, and care for others. She treasured Truth, because she was a lifelong crusader of doing the right thing – even if she was alone in what that was – or ahead of her time, as was often the case. My mother had conviction and confidence to spare. Mom's sense of joy for life was enough to make us all smile no matter the circumstance and befriend those she may have barely known. She also valued hard work, commitment, compassion, and following one’s dreams. But to truly appreciate who my mother was, it’s first necessary to understand that love was the fabric from which she fashioned her entire life. When it came to her family, her love was unconditional. My mom truly defined the word family as I have come to learn and live it. Some people scoff at the idea of homemaker or mother being a job, but I can tell you that she worked harder than any women I’ve ever known. But she never made it seem like work. She was up early to help get us ready for school. She was there to drive us home, make dinner, help us with our school reports and science fair projects, and there to make us to go to bed. We were enrolled or by default engaged, therefore participated in a variety of activities. One great example is the Boy Scouts where she became a scout master and insisted I too could be a Boy Scout with Jeff, even though none of the scout leaders really accepted it. Mom made a habit of breaking glass ceilings! She always put her family above all other priorities, including taking care of herself. She was proud of her family and had no problem showing it. She was fully supportive she found great joy in her children making sure we knew we were loved and realized their full value and potential. When I was younger I wasn’t able to comprehend how much time and care she put into her family. Only now can I truly appreciate the amount of effort she put in to raising us, and for this I will always be grateful. Rather than treating me like a typical child, she treated me like a little person who held valid opinions, thoughts, and beliefs. There weren’t many “because I told you so” moments in our house; instead my mom always took the time to explain why things should or shouldn’t be done. This fostered my natural sense of curiosity, taught me how to reason through everything for myself, and instilled a sense self-worth. One of the most important roles she had in her family’s lives was to keep them healthy. As her children we understood the value of family and fun, but most importantly we learned to love life and follow our own dreams. My mom always told me that I could talk with her about anything. I can tell you this was true … because when I was 12 or 13, I decided to test just how far “anything” really went. I was lying on her bed. She was patiently struggling to finish a book, despite my efforts to interrupt her. “What would happen if I told you I was pregnant?” I finally asked her. “Well,” she said very calmly, putting down her book, “Of course I would still love and support you. But you had better never, ever tell your brothers who the father was because if they didn’t kill him, their friends would finish him off." Even as my relationship with my mother grew and changed over the years, the fact that I could tell her anything remained the thing about our relationship I cherished most. And, to her credit, she listened, offering advice only when asked. Never did she judge, or think less of me for anything "bad" I’ve ever done. And that is saying a lot. Holidays and family gatherings were a joyous time in Mom's house. She loved a reason to celebrate. While she managed to find something worth celebrating every day, she couldn’t resist a reason to decorate or put a tradition-related smile on the faces of her children. Every celebration was an outlet for Mom's love. These traditions, which were passed to her from her mother (Grandma) are now instilled within us. It is all too easy to ignore the needs of those around us. But Mother did not. She was always there whenever anyone needed her. Whether it was someone to talk to, or help with a task, she never asked why and was quick to help. She taught us that as Christians, we are directed by God to love our neighbor. As the Bible says in Corinthians, “If I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have charity, I am nothing.” Mom put it this way, “Love. Each. Other.” Always one to lead by example, Mother took every opportunity to uplift others with her love. It did not matter if they were standing in a checkout line, sitting in a waiting room, or waiting beside her. As Helen Keller wrote, “so long as you can sweeten another’s pain, life is not in vain…. I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble.” If people are measured by the compassion and love they show towards others-- in short, charity – my mother was a Great Lady. Her genuine interests in people repeatedly lead her to incredible things. For example, she helped inspire and motivate many people to reach their goals. In case after case, people’s lives were changed by her presence on this earth. I know everyone in this room would agree that my mother herself lived an incredible and inspiring life. She didn’t have it easy in this world, but she never let anything hold her back from where she was going or what she was doing. She knew who she was and what she wanted. She was never fully satisfied nor discontent with her accomplishments. She could strive for the most incredible of heights and still be so grateful for the smallest of moments. She knew never to take things for granted. Her passion for life exuded from her, and everyone who met her wanted to be near that level of excitement and happiness. It was clear she wanted to experience every single moment on this earth to the fullest and her positivity and gratitude that came along with that was contagious. It attracted some of the most incredible people to her life, many of whom are here with us today. She was constantly extending loving gestures to everyone. Nobody could make you feel more special than my mom did. Whether she knew you or not, you were always welcome to let yourself in. I can’t remember a single time on Rosewood Lane when any of us had to use a key. If the front door was locked, the back would always be wide open and no person ever got turned away. If she fed you a meal, she also sent you home with a well-packed bag of leftovers that would last you through the next week. When she read the newspaper, she clipped out articles she thought would interest you. If she knew when your birthday was, you’d receive a card and an invitation would be extended. Whether you considered her house your home or were stopping by for a holiday, she spoiled you. If you didn’t accept her offer of a place to sleep, she offered you a ride in her "taxi van,” Or both. Even pets received her extraordinary care; she hung each their own stocking above the chimney each year. She baked dog treats, prepared each animal their own special, dietary gravy-topped meal. She did these things in her own way, where half the time someone would say, “Got your Mom’s card,” and I had no idea what they were talking about. Cooking was not just a passion for Mom, but it was an extension of her love. I told Mom she could write a cookbook. All of her friends loved to dine at our house and Mom loved to entertain, so it was a win-win for everyone. Many, if not most of you, have tasted one of her special homemade specialties. You may remember her ultimate chocolate chip cookies, chocolate drenched brownies, her infamous signature white vanilla meringue frosting that she topped with candy confections of with the holiday’s corresponding colors and festive touches on top of any flavor or kind of cake. Mom applied her artistic talent with her highly creative mind and culinary skills to transform raw ingredients into masterpieces. But none of that happened by accident; she would spend countless hours prepping food, combining some of this, that, just a bit more, a little pour, a quick shake from a jar. As a kid, I sat transfixed at the counter. I probably pestered her with every question imaginable, but I was fascinated by the fact that she knew every ingredient and its measurement for every single recipe, without ever having to “cheat” by looking in the book. Prep for her catering jobs began the night before. She explained to us that the house needed to be quiet in order for the bread to rise. It was Easter, many ears later when we had all grown up that Jeff decided to put that explanation to the test. Mom left for the store, leaving tins of bread dough on the counter. He proved to us that no matter how noisy or how loud -- even yelling directly at the dough -- the bread still rose to perfection that year, and mom never did find out. As I said, anything made by mom in the kitchen was a masterpiece … despite me. I only say that because of a story she would tell of how when I was two years old and wondered out of bed to find her tired and still in the kitchen where she had been all night working to finish a wedding cake. I sat down at the counter and helpfully suggested that the frosting was not straight on my side and she needed to fix it to match the other side. She stopped what she was doing and said she was more concerned about me getting enough sleep, giving me a bottle and tucked me back into bed. It was inevitable, however, that she would teach me how to cook and bake. I loved helping my mother in the kitchen when I was child and even after I grew up. My favorite part was just seeing if Mom would actually eat it whatever it was I made. Truth be told, it would come out a mess most times, but I could always count on my lab rat Matt to tell me if it was really edible. My triumph came when I really won Mom over with my Pastina, which she really did love. She was the perfect teacher. She offered gentle guidance when asked, but she let me make my own way so that I could learn from my own mistakes. And she was there, waiting to hold me, when it all came crumbling down, as she must have known it would. I learned a lot from my mother, including the importance of family and the pleasure of spending time with each other. I learned an appreciation for the outdoors and even went on camping trips or day trips with mom up north. I learned how important a strong work ethic is, regardless the career you choose and how remaining positive can help us get through life’s biggest challenges. My mother taught me a lot of skills that I will always cherish, most of all what it means to be to be a loving individual. The most important lessons were not verbal; they were in her actions. The mother-daughter relationship can be one of the closest, yet one of the most complicated of relationships. From the outside looking in, it may have appeared that I was at times a less-than-supportive daughter who didn’t show her love. But know this: Mom and I were very close. She was my mother, but also my friend. We shared thoughts and experiences of which few were aware and might not be able to follow even if they were. We laughed, shared jokes, occasionally worried together over my brothers and truly enjoyed each other’s company. I’ve endured internal conflict throughout my entire life. At some points that impacted my relationship with my mother, and in fact, my whole family. As time went on, I would come and go, sticking around for only very brief visits. To be sure, everyone was aware of my behavior. But generally, little was said about it to me. Perhaps they were unsure of just how to respond to it. I have come to realize that we tend to translate silence to mean a lack of acceptance or disapproval, when the correct interpretation is actually a lack of understanding and a fear to ask questions. Mom and I worked together on these things for years, and years. Yet we could not change those things we could not identify or understand, and that was a great source of frustration and friction for us. But the Saturday after Mom left us, it clicked. The largest mysteries surrounding my relationship with my mother had been solved! I was dumbfounded beyond belief that the answer that had eluded me my entire life was so simple and had been hiding in plain sight. I can honestly say when the realization hit me I felt Mom laugh and it gave me comfort as I cried for both of us. Among the any important lessons we worked on together, I suddenly recalled her efforts to teach me to gain strength and independence through life experiences. And from those, develop compassion and understanding. She was the very model of those virtues. I realized how her life changed her, and finally, how my experiences had changed me. Without true understanding, such changes can be frightening. I can now say that the greatest gifts you can give your children are roots of responsibility and wings of independence. Forgive me if I what I’m about to say challenges your belief system. Before either of us were born, Mom and I made an agreement with each other that eventually she would be my mother, and that I was to learn strength and independence from her. When life's plan called, I became her daughter and with this prearranged dynamic and course of life events began to unfold. I don’t believe people are randomly born into whatever family. I have learned that there is nothing random about life, because we were in on the planning from the beginning. We co-create our experience called life. I realize that because this is something we’re not taught, it’s difficult to understand or accept. Rather than something that is taught, this is an intuitive recognition. It’s something you catch on to and harness to grasp the lessons you need to learn, understand, change, or discover and store until needed throughout your own journey. Ironically we don't realize these lessons no matter how big or small until they’re looking us straight in the eye. That is usually when we say to ourselves or those closest to us, "It had to be this way", or “I cant believe I did not see this coming when it was so obvious that it couldn’t have been other way.” Isn’t that right, Matt? I also believe that every person, in their own unique way, creates a legacy in their lifetime by which others can live long after that person has left us. Mom truly created a legacy to uphold and fulfill in our daily lives. I firmly believe that this carrying out is a true honor and responsibility by means of the various facets that Mom has made her own. It seems like we women spend a great deal of our lives trying not to become our mothers. I know my mom, when she was much younger, tried very hard not to become hers. That’s part of what led her into her professional career: getting out of the house to find her own life rather than living only for her family. In one major respect, she was not successful. You see, she became an even more nurturing woman who took pride in caring for those close to her and who tried to live life making others smile … in other words, she was just like her mother. For years, I was convinced that I too, could escape becoming my mother. Yet all the while I was following in her footsteps without even realizing it. Fortunately, I failed just as my mother had before me. And I am very proud to admit it that I am, in many ways, just like her. As hard as it is right now to see through the tears of our grief, we should take comfort in the fact that Mom is not truly gone: she will live on forever in the hearts and minds of those of us who love her. She would have wanted everyone to continue on with their lives because she was always more concerned with how we were doing and if we were happy. If you are family, know she lived for you. If you are a friend, know she cared for you. If you called her Mom, know she genuinely loved you. Regardless of which, know she always thought about you. Always caring always loving each and every one of you, behind the scenes of life and may her spirit continue on doing the same. So now I say goodbye to the person who gave me life – in so many more ways than one. I will miss her every day for as long as I live. I love you so much and wish that we had more time together. I will cherish all of the great memories we had and will carry your values with me for as long as I live. You will be missed by all. May the fond memories of our time together be cherished, providing us comfort as you live within our hearts forever.