It has been over a month, and I remain wordless, maybe for the first time in my life. Every time I visit this beautiful site, I feel the need to offer something of inspiration or reflection, but the keys stay motionless. So I will offer the single greatest words ever written and edit them slightly (Sorry Will). 

 It is the east, and Lynda was the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. . . .

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars

As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night. 

For 40 years, Lynda was not only the SUN for my brother Walter, but for the entire Vital family. She understood our way - accepted it, embraced it, and some how provided balance. I am blessed to have had you in my life. I love you Lynda. 

from a letter I wrote when she left my college after a visit- 2/24/2003...

"when people visit, worlds collide and I am left to wonder how in Gods name I was blessed with a family that carries it's comfort around with it on it's back. So many people seem so unstable, almost radioactive, waiting for someone to create coziness for them. You guys, on the other hand, make it for other people. Daddy is a thrill to observe, interacting, not far from his highschool identity. He notices the wallflowers and makes them WILD PRAIRIE flowers by asking them about themselves, raising his eyebrows whole heartedly.You, like me, are less likely to do this, not out of rudeness, but because we dig a different interaction. Loud, vibrant, crazy, fun, often surrounded in others like us-like magnets. Nicky, Ben, Rami, Liz Jenkins..people that seem to want to just live, LIVE, LIVE! We love wallflowers and have been them before ourselves, but right now! We are living BIG!People see me in you. That makes me stoked. I have this idea of you, 1/2 of it fake, mutated by photos I've seen but wasn't born or present or old enough to actually have experienced, the other 1/2 made up on my interactions with you/my knowing you. Some of the photos? You holding me, looking at bald, blue eyed baby on a porch? With Pat and Daddy. You both looking excessively athletic, sneakers and early 80's short jogging shorts and a Jimmy Vital Memorial shirt on you. Your mouth is open, as it often is in photos, because you were probably talking and laughing, never posing, thus more beautiful. I am not you, but I want to be that two braided mother that gives so much laughter to the air.  That filled her babies with so much laughter that they exist today living unknowingly in that light heartedness.                                                we shook with it in the belly,                               we felt it pushing in on us in our fetus,it rattled us as you held us on a hip later on and it filled our ears day in and day our for so many years.                               so naturally, so easily. it just was.I hope my laughter just is......to be continued. (because we always driveled on and on:) I love you, mom. I do not even realize you are gone yet, but I took one letter from Daddy and your house and this one was one I had to write even though I have to bartend in 5 and 1/2 hours for an Arsenal match and am exhausted.Acceptance? Denial? I know not. Only you hold the answers. Esta est mea creatura.LIZZY 

It was early on, perhaps in my first visit to the Vital household, that Lyn offered me a dram of Laphroaig (to my American tongue, the best phonetic I can come up with is "La-Froy-gh"). It was not my first time having Laphroaig, but it took on special meaning that day, and has been my favorite of all the Whiskeys to this day. That particular breed of Scotch Whiskey is known as one of the most strongly flavored and distinctive of all Whiskeys in the world. Lyn and Laphroaig are very much the same in that way. I have encountered many wonderful and distinctive Whiskeys in my life, but none quite like Laphroaig.  I have encountered many wonderful and distinctive people in my life, but none quite like Lynda.

It seemed there was an endless number of things that Lynda and I could speak about. I love all of the Vitals, and feel a special connection to every one of them for different reasons. With Lynda, I could speak of anything, knowing that she would understand and offer me back a dose of equilibrium. Where I was too serious, she would lighten the mood. When I would be too sentimental, she would ground me with reality. When I was being glib, she would remind me of the consequences. And then, at some point in the conversation, she would point out something to spin my perspective on its head and leave me thinking in a new way about an old thing... I will always love and cherish those conversations, even as time wears away the edges of the details. 

If ever there was a family outside of my own (and in many ways more than my own), that I felt I belonged, it was with the Vitals. With Mama Vital leading the pack, nourishing and encouraging all of us as she did with her other friends in the animal kingdom. Like those winged, four legged, bushy tailed, feathered, scaled and singing friends, we would come back time and time again to share in the banquet of love, acceptance, honesty, and joy that Lyn created for those around her. I, too, like so many, felt as if I was friend, child, companion, cohort, and sometime conspirator in Lyndas' amazing world. As I approach the coming into this world of my own child, my first child, I know I will carry so much of what Lynda brought to her own children and family into my own practice as a father.

Thank you Lynda for who you were as a physical being here, and for who you have imprinted upon us who still carry you within us.

From Susie and I, and our unborn baby boy who will know you through the light of your life that will shine through us, we love you with all of our heart.

As I sit here getting sappy and philosohical, I can hear hear you echoing Walter with a "Get over it already!", and somewhere in the background I hear Walt shout out "BURP!". I love you guys...

It was one year ago and we were trying to get home from Minneapolis visiting the Minnesota Vital-Schwatz's and little did we know what would happen. As we left a monster Nor'easter came up the East coast and Norfolk was under seige! The airport was closed and we really wanted to get home for the holidays to be by ourselves enjoying the season with the new snow! So off we went, to Chicago Midway, to Atlanta and finally Richmond. Rented a car and drove through a blizzard down rte. 64 to the Norfolk airport. Now we finally got our car and headed home as it continued to buildup! Now I became impatient, always the bad driver, and went out into the middle lanes, thinkin' "this isn't so bad"! It was about that time that we came into about 8 inches of snow , it took my Saturn and just hurled it into the median where we came to rest in a snow drift!  Oh what a day,traveling for now 10 hrs., stuck in the drift figuring I'd have to get towed when Lyn said," OK fat boy , you get out and push and we are going to rock this car out"! She got behind the wheel and did just that and after pushing from the front and the back and the front again, we got it out! She was amazing, staying steady, and letting me get us home at last after a good 12 hrs. A drink never tasted so good and that was our last Christmas together!! I love you Lyn, you were such a great fighter....love, Walt

 I received a story today on  my wife Annie's memorial, from a son that lost his mom, Lynda.  The day before, I reached out to the family with anxious anticipation, not knowing if I was doing the right thing or not.  I must admit, it seemed so natural. Lynda, as far as I could tell was exactly like Annie. They both had so much love to give, and didn't expect anything in return.  This is uncanny!  I flew to England in May of 2011, to celebrate Annie's life.  Just as her son and family are doing in May 2012. Lynda was extremely creative, as was Annie. What's the odds of them being side by side on the home page of a memorial website. Their love of others brought them together. People were always drawn to Annie, so that must have been the case for Lynda. That's how it was meant to be. When I wrote my book about Annie's 30 month battle with cancer, I made a statement, "Annie was one of a kind!"  Well, I know now beyond a doubt there was at least two.  That gives me hope!  Where there is two, there's another. People like Lynda and Annie touched so many hearts.  So now we take our lessons learned forward, and share them with others.  We have to make a difference, so their sacrafices will not have been in vain.  I have a theory, and I spoke to Annie about it on several occasion. I told her that one day her love--humanitarianism could someday be her down fall. With all the love they shared with others, and watching others suffer through their eyes, must have had a profound effect on their well-being.  They were both so young!  Who knows, maybe they are sitting somewhere together at this moment.  Out of pain and suffering, with Lynda painting, and Annie decorating.  Why not!      

As I sit here and write my story for my mom I wonder why it has taken me so long to share. I know it is because I want to write the perfect words. I want my mom to be proud of me as she always was and I want to capture her in the best way possible. So how does one do this? How can someone write a paragraph or two on a website expressing their emotions about someone who was so close to them? What is the perfect thing to write? I now know the answer… anything. I have been thinking a lot about my 26 years with my mom these last few days. Mostly of the good times and the nurturing times but I know there are the times where I upset her or did something wrong so I try to think of them as well. Looking back I now realize that I actually have no memories of this. I literally can’t think of a single time where my mom was disappointed in me or raised her voice. So was I a perfect child? Did I never do anything wrong? Well many of you who know me (especially through middle school and high school… and college, haha okay my entire life) will tell you that this is far from the truth. Actually I will tell you I was the exact the opposite. Most adults or parents would call me a nightmare But to mom I was perfect. I was her child and nothing else mattered. My friends and I were a rough bunch. Many mothers would have said your friends are a bad influence and make us split. My mother welcomed those kids into her home and loved them whole heartedly. Many mothers would sit quietly as father’s disciplined their children. My mother again did the opposite and would stick up for me to the very end. Many mother’s would try viciously to change the ways of a troubled kid. My mom instead always just accepted who I was and loved me with all her heart. I could do no wrong in my mother’s eyes. Nobody could. She loved us all just the way we were and would never change anything. My mom just understood and if you messed up she was there for you. So this story I guess is more of a message or a reassurance than anything that there will always be at least one person that is saying “its okay, I get it and I love you”. My mother gave me this gift my entire life and the only way I can live now is with her spirit in my heart. Her love of the world and animals and every person she ever met will always be with me and her acceptance of everything and everybody. I am the luckiest son in the world to have been raised by such an incredible woman. She was my best friend and will always be. So did I capture her in the perfect way? Did I share the best story I could to explain my deepest thoughts and emotions about my mom? Did I write the perfect passage? Probably not… but to her… I absolutely did.

To mama,                                                                                                                       I love you mom and I will miss you every single day I’m on this Earth but I will always remember you’re wishes… for us to be happy. I’m happy mama, always happy.

FOURTH OF JULY IN THE "VILLE"

To my dear Mrs.V,

  I was 14 years old when the warmth of the Vital home was so generously washed over me. I had barely known Patrick, when I walked into the first of many gatherings I would come to attend. As you all know, it's quite an experience to see so many beautiful people, each with their own unique persona. I was somewhat overwhelmed, and I probably wasn't even very noticable because I couldn't help but survey everything and everyone around me. It was at this point that my eyes swept across the loveable Basenji, Cabal. He had managed to ferret a chicken bone in the basement, and I was concerned that he would hurt himself with it. So I did the "not so smart thing" and plucked it out of his mouth. He thanked me by shaking my hand... with his teeth. Mrs. V heard about this and rushed down to see if I was ok, she insisted I go upstairs with her and she washed my wound, and felt terrible that I had experienced that at her home. I told her it was my fault, and that I was so sorry I had upset her party and her dog. She gave me a reallly big hug and that beautiful smile of hers, and I knew I had found a family that was very, very special. Her and I would later laugh at the many poor decisions I would make throughout my life, her children and I would go on to become the very best of friends, and her home still serves today as a haven that I have come to love.

 Mrs. Vital never forgot me, never judged me, and always loved me. From my crazy ex wife caling the cops on the Vitals because I had been "Kidnapped" (I just would have rather stayed with the vitals then gone home), to sending my child her books and remembering me every fourth of July. I will miss her, and be grateful that such a woman, such a beautiful beacon of love and acceptance, graced me with her life, her children, her home, and her love.

Muck-A-Muck Mrs.V, may your Journey across the Rainbow be as beautiful as the path you blazed in life.

With a heavy heart, a tear and smile. Love, Michael and Orion

 Sincerity, to love life, to accept

You all know my family and you probably know we are not very religious. However, some of you know we are a fairly spiritual bunch. We all have different beliefs about the after life and souls and all that good stuff. Despite not being taken to church, my mother taught me about religion, and different cultural beliefs, all my life.

When I was very little, she told me all the myths from Ancient Greece, Rome, and Egypt. They were mostly stories about cool animals and Monsters. When I was older she would teach me about the Samurais and Japanese Shinto-ism. She told me about the Incas, Aztecs, and their Sun Gods and sacrifices. She told me about the Native American tribes and the spiritual paths they followed. She taught me about the Druids of the British Isles. She basically laid out every idea that any one had ever believed in the entire world since the beginning of recorded history.

Of course, we talked a lot about the major dominant religions of today too; Buddhism, Judaism, Muslim and of course Christianity. We would talk about how their different ideas conflicted and compared and how we felt about all of that. It’s pretty obvious that they have some major differences, but they share major similarities as well.

Now, I believe in all of it to some extent and none of it completely. Every person has their own concept of what Heaven will be and that idea is uniquely suited to them. I hope that when we pass on from this physical world that our soul can travel to that place but I don‘t know. I do believe in a spirit that is inside all of us.  I believe this spirit ties us to people, to places, even to things like paintings or flowers or even a car that you really love. My mother has passed away but my spirit will always be tied to hers, just as I know your spirits are tied to her as well. I am happy to have so many people to share this bond with. That is what my mother taught me to believe.

I love you Mom and thank you for everything.

When Lizzy called and said the words, that Lyn had passed, I just didn’t believe it-but I suppose I was looking at it as if she were gone, and she will never be gone-far from it. She rocked this world and so many people’s (and furry/reptilian/feathered creatures) lives in her life’s voyage, that to say she is gone ignores the undeniable impact and joy she brought and that will remain forever and ever in each and every one of us. She has left an imprint on each of us. Walt, Lizzy, Pat and Steve. I love you all so incredibly much. I know you all know this but she was magic. Pure and simple. She was one of those people that you meet in life and you can’t help but be changed because of them-I looked at her and couldn’t help but get inspired, laugh, open up my crinkly heart and cry without caring who was watching, dance like a madwoman just all and all live hard, make it count, tear it up! She was one of those people who you knew was a unicorn reincarnated, because you saw her lovie Walt and spawnies Steve, LIzzy and Pat and think-man this is a strange bunch…and I want in! Her love and passion must have been seeping from her every pore because I just felt lit up when I saw her. She was like a second mom(as I’m sure half the LHS  theater department might also attest). She opened up her home, her hugs (especially right when you really needed one), her delectable veggie piggies in a blanket, her ears and her heart to me and I hope you all know how special those times were.

We are some of the luckiest people on the face of this bizarre little planet because Mamma Vital is in our lives.