All of you here knew my parents well.  My father was the outgoing one, and my mother was more retiring. However, those of you who knew her well know that she was the power behind the throne.  Although she did not join a lot of organizations and was not a “macher” outside the home, inside the home she was the business manager, director of finance, secretary and receptionist extraordinaire, and the brains that solved the practical issues in life.  My father would have been lost without her, and much as she worshipped him, he equally loved and appreciated her.  They went everywhere together—although she was the one who told him which route to travel, not only on the road but in life. 

They moved to Martin’s Run at her suggestion, and it was a good move for them. My mother was happy there. She made wonderful friends, for the first time in her life got involved in activities from the evening discussion group to the literature group to publishing her poetry in Martin’s Runs’ resident newspaper.  She developed her own interests and really blossomed. When my father died, her friends supported her and she was able to adjust.  She enjoyed going to religious services. The old songs and prayers evoked memories of her childhood. A few months ago I asked her what she thought about and she said “the old times”; that is, her childhood.  

As the middle child in a very strong willed family, she learned the art of compromise. As the spouse of an Alzheimer’s patient, she demonstrated patience.  As a grandparent and great-grandparent, her love and affection were evident. As a writer of poetry and short stories, her intelligence and imagination came into play.  And as a friend, she demonstrated the supportiveness and kindness that were her defining attributes.  Today we commit her body to the ground, but her spirit and her influence will always be with us.