The world lost a woman yesterday.
A boy lost his grandmother, three people lost their mother and a man lost his wife.
This woman was a pistol, tough and strong and a force to be reckoned with.
I grew up with her tales of adventure, living overseas while young and newly married, her husband in the military.
I learned of a day in 1929 when this girl took a shoebox of money she was saving to the bank, to be turned away empty-handed, for her money was worth nothing.
I recall dramatic and gory stories when she worked as a nurse, the night shift in the E.R.
I ate many holiday dinners at her dining room table and swam many summers in her swimming pool.
I never shared blood with this woman, yet she is the person who gave me one of my mothers. And she too suffered from a silent illness, Lupus.
An illness of shared compassion to us Fibromyalgia patients.
But she braced herself up and raised her family, one of her daughters developmentally disabled and by her side every single day.
She was a woman of courage and strength and integrity, a beauty from a bygone time.
Blessed with long life, part of her will go on.
In the friends, she loved, each child she created.
Birthed and raised and taught right from wrong.
Each life she touched, I.V. she poked or Special Olympics she attended to watch her daughter win gold and silver medals.
That is what goes on.
The memories her loved ones share when brought together as they laugh through their tears, recalling something they did that made her really really mad.
The animation and times of a person with a life well-lived.
Respected and remembered.
Rest in peace, you will be missed.
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