It was wonderful connecting with all of you at Sheryl’s celebration of life.  Following is an unedited version of my tribute to Sheryl.

Good Afternoon.

Mr. Larson, Renee, Jana, Hank, Hannah, Ella, Taya & Kyle: I’m holding you especially close in my heart, as I share in your crushing grief.  Hank, thank you for your steady care of Sheryl.  Her eyes sparkled whenever she spoke of you.

“My Cup Runneth Over” when I think of the friendship I had with Sheryl and I’m grateful for the honor of remembering her with you today.

Sheryl always greeted me with “Hello, my oldest friend”.  What she really meant was our friendship was the longest - for both of us.

We first met in fourth grade, I was a new girl and we clicked over our matching bass weejuns. With her typical kindness and concern for others, Sheryl took me in. Her talent for making each of us feel special was already fully-formed at age nine.  I count her friendship as one of the greatest gifts of my life.

Our lives intertwined throughout grammar school, middle school and high school.  We attended the University of Illinois together, living in the same dorm, across the hall from each other.  We both had Pam as our college roommate, sharing many (redacted) episodes.  It was the ‘70’s. 

Sheryl and I were each other’s date, to a pig roast, the night Toni introduced her to Hank (who wasn’t wearing a lime green jacket that evening).  Sheryl uncharacteristically ditched me, and the rest, as they say, is history. 

Hank and Sheryl were married a few months later at Avanzare, a hip Chicago restaurant where our late friend Dennis, the chef/owner, created a Larson/Kinzie worthy dinner party. 

Sheryl was such a lover of good food & music, hence a glorious hostess. She brought a certain sharpness to almost any discussion and graced our senses with thoughtfulness and style.  She was intuitive – tenacious – courageous and her girls are a mirror image of her.

Sheryl listened to understand and not just to reply.  That’s why she was the unofficial Godmother to so many of her friend’s children, including my daughter, KK.  Taryn, Lucian and Andrew are blessed with Sheryl as their official Godmother. 

Sheryl was my most steadfast, supportive friend.  Not only did she encouraged me to start a baking business, she also served up my best customer, Jonathan Black and his 7-tier wedding cake order - a feat Sheryl, Jonathan, Kaarina and I were still discussing at Hannah’s wedding, some twenty years later.

Sheryl and I were kindred planners and perfect travel partners. I went on more soul-restoring getaways with Sheryl than any other friend.

Sheryl’s long fashioned, magnetic persona offered  “shelter from the rain.”  She always responded with patience to see things through and found time to thank the people who made a difference in her life.

I’m finding it very hard to live without Sheryl.  Our lives will simply not be the same.  She was a fetching, bright light and so reliable.  Could Ginny, Jill, Susan and I not notice this month the birthday card we didn’t receive? She had mastered friendship and personal interaction.

We all know Sheryl doled out wise words.  She taught me “belief in yourself” is “the head chemist of the mind”. She also shared practical strategies and gave me the best driving tip ever: if someone is tailgating you, press the emergency blinker button.  It works every time. So very Sheryl: non-aggressive yet effective.

Her mindset of “living in the present” was a valuable asset. She believed the purpose of life is to evolve and become a better human being. Sheryl was a fully evolved human being.

Quite fittingly, one of our last outings together was a trip to a fabulous shoe store in Kansas City.  Sheryl was clad in her Chloe studded ankle boots:  “Retail therapy”, she said, after completing her targeted therapy.  Our friendship was bookended by a mutual love of design (& shoes!).

Our final time together was last May, at my family’s Wisconsin vineyard.  What was planned as four days of fun ended up being two days of goodbyes.

I now realize Sheryl was resolved to honor our last get-together.  Short on energy, she still swung by the Milwaukee airport on her drive up to retrieve Toni, who had flown in from San Diego.  As always, Sheryl was determined, helpful, and loyal.  Toni and I hold the memory of those two days with very deep reverence.  There is no doubt in our mind this was divine timing.

We bundled Sheryl in blankets, as we sat by the bonfire endlessly talking and forgetting to let Hank know she’d arrived safely.  We plied her with homemade soup, massaged her feet with essential oils, and tucked ourselves in bed with her, sharing photos on our phones.

Sheryl spoke about not wanting to leave this world or those she loved, so soon. Her words were brave, painful, and true. She marveled about beauty and nature.  She summed up friendship with this quote from Ghandi: 

“Friendship that insists on agreement on all matters is not worth the name. Friendship to be real must ever sustain the weight of honest differences, however sharp they be.”

We are all greater to have had the privilege and joy of knowing Sheryl. She was confidant, authentic, lived her values daily, and held herself to a high standard. 

May we carry on her legacy by doing as much as we can to help others, and by being the very best version of ourselves for the rest of our days.

I will always hold a sanctuary in my heart for Sheryl Larson.

Thank you and I send love to all of you.

For those who don't know, I'm Sheryl's niece, Kate. My dad, Richard/Huey [Hank's brother] filmed and I edited this piece during this last Thanksgiving when Ginny Holbert had the great idea to bring ecologically friendly paper lanterns. So instead of fireworks, we lit these off into the sky. It was understood that as we lit each one, we'd make a wish for Sheryl.

Peace. Love. Wisdom. 

I've had many special times with Sheryl- at The Barn, at Ginny's house, at my parents' house, at The Lucky Platter for brunch, at my soccer games, at Hannah and Ryan's wedding, at my grandma's house, etc. I cherish all of them. 

I also cherish... our texts and email exchanges. I have hundreds of emails and even more texts withSheryl. I have been going through them as I have thought of Sheryl in the past few weeks and they make me smile every time. 

A sampling: 

An article about her doctor or the research behind her treatment that she thought I would like to read
A note of encouragement as I began to apply to medical school
An article about West Virginia engineers who discovered that Volkswagen was deisgning some lines of their advertised-green cars to only be "green" during an emissions test (She sent this to me because I had recently been accepted to WVU and thought WVU might be a good place for me because of this)
A thoroughly edited (with great detail and care!) medical school application essay 
A note about her neice suceeding in soccer and Hannah surprising her for Mother's Day 
The nicest thank you letter I've ever received for a tiny gift I gave her 
A simple "thinking of you" 

All "Sent from my iPad". I loved that. I could picture her with her stylus every time.

What I am hoping to convey is Sheryl's enormous love and thoughtfulness. She made me feel so special. In talking to other people and reading others' stories, I now see that maybe this is what I admire most about her. Somehow, she had enough time, energy, and kindness to make SO many people feel special. No matter what she was going through, she found a way to make time for me and for so many other people. 

I miss you Sheryl, my dear friend. XOXO  

This video was at Amy & Sarah Cordell's wedding.  (I'm Amy's mom.)  I've watched this now many times.  It just exudes so much spirit and joy in life.  Sheryl was a great friend to Amy & Sarah, and she was truly someone whose beauty and spirit shined forth, and surely still ripples in untold ways.  With much love to Hannah, Ella, Hank and the whole family.  

Sheryl gave of herself even when she was struggling health wise.  Very grateful for her generous spirit and her time and effort in helping Amy and Sarah find their place to live.  A lovely act of kindness that will be remembered for a long time.

I had the honor to have Hank and Cheryl attend our wedding May 13,1995 in Phoenix. Sheryl took the time to write us a letter after the festivities were over and everyone was back in their normal routine. It was to share with us her perspective on what marriage, relationships and love is all about as we moved forward in our new life together. My wife Cathy and I have read this letter many times over the years, because it reminds us about what our relationship really means and how to be a good partner and happy together in good times and bad times. I read it again after Hanks news on Cheryl passing, and it made me sad and happy at the same time. She could not have been more accuate in her undeerstanding. 

Sheryl, you will always be remembered as we plan on passing your letter to our children when they find love and start their own life as a newlty married family.  

We were so lucky to have Sheryl in our lives. Her trademark blend of warmth and wit, intelligence and creativity, elegance and strength always delighted us and left us with a slightly broadened world view. Who else could do all that with such grace?

Our love to Sheryl's family.

Mardelle and Jim

Sheryl was a dear friend all throughout my childhood and the most memorable quality about her was her kindness to me, always.  She was a neighbor just a few doors away and has known me all of my life.  She was almost 2 years older, but one year ahead in school.  We worked together as waitresses at the Holiday Inn in Joliet.  We performed together on the Pom-Pom squad at Joliet West High School.  She drove me to school, to work, and home from squad practices and games.  We even took piano lessons from the same teacher.  The photo was taken just before we went on our way to our first day of school in 1961 - her sister Renee, me (Gail), and Sheryl (2nd grade).

Sheryl always took an interest in me.  Not many students from our grade school went to the large high school we attended.  I was shy and reserved and petrified to go to high school.  Sheryl invited me to a sleep-over in the family room in the lower level at her house.  We talked nearly the whole night, me peppering her with questions about what high school would be like, and she patiently answering every one.  I had her full attention during that time and felt so much better knowing the details of what to expect!  Who else would do that but Sheryl?  She was talented, beautiful, well-liked and kind.

After college we lost touch when I moved to Nebraska with my job (I kept informed through our mothers who were still in contact).  I am sorry all those years went by without her.  I got back in touch with the family 6-7 years ago and I’ve been privileged to see Sheryl three times in the past three years.  Sheryl, her sister Jana and I had many lovely hours together a year ago at their father’s house.  I will forever treasure that personal time with the two of them!

What a beautiful life!  Sheryl – you are missed and loved!

Gail Silvey Higgs, Omaha, Nebraska

I became friends with Hannah in high school during trig class. Ever since then, Sheryl has treated me as a fifth daughter. She would sign her emails Mom2, of course she would write the body of the message in the subject section. 

She always welcomed me into her home, arms open, coffee brewing, snacks on the table, and great stories waiting. She always wanted to know what was going on in my life, where I was going to school, where I was going to work, who I was dating. She would even ask me to keep an eye on Hannah and Ella and tell me the advice I should give them since she had called them one to many times that week.

I remember one year she took Hannah to New York for her birthday. I was in college at BU then and she invited me to stay with them for the weekend. We explored the food scene there. She loved food, loved design, loved life. It was such a magical trip, and she made me feel so special and welcome.

When she met my wife, she knew right away that we were perfect for each other. The three of us shared such a special bond. She helped us find our home. I will never forget her patience with first time home buyers and her dedication to finding us the perfect place to live. Our house warming gift was a beautiful bonsai fig tree that is growing stronger each day.

One of the most meaningful experiences was having Sheryl at our wedding. She supported love more than anyone that I know. Having her be there and read a beautiful poem in honor of love will stay with me forever. 

I miss Sheryl deeply, but know she is still with us all, wanting us to live life. 

Peace. Wisdom. Love 

Who knew, while still in our 20s, how fabulous it would be to drive across the Chicago Skyway Bridge reading Joan Didion essays aloud.

Who else would spend an entire weekend solving the world’s problems while finishing off, just the two of us, the whole Baker’s Square Caramel Silk Pecan pie.

And who would mention casually one day, much to even her husband’s surprise, that it was Mohammed Ali who got out of the limo and changed her flat tire somewhere between Minneapolis and Chicago. Sheryl, of course, thanked the boxing legend with a knowing look, never uttering his name.

There aren’t many who, after watching hours and hours of the Clarence Thomas/Anita Hill fiasco, would shrug appreciatively, then boil it down to a single sentence. “Democracy is messy.”

Sheryl relished that messiness when she rode the bus to Washington for her first protest march, and decades later, when she did it again. The only difference, she noted: at their more advanced age, she and her bus companions woke early to reapply their make-up.

It would be remiss here not to mention the overheated cockroach. When it staggered out of her Hamburger Royale, Sheryl looked around Chester’s Hamburger King, brightening the dingy diner with her smile, and observed that if there were any more such insects in the glob of beef and rice in front of her, they were probably dead. So she stuck her fork back in and kept eating.

Again and again, Sheryl stuck her fork back in and kept eating.

Words may not be enough to convey this. I am struggling to describe, especially for Sheryl’s daughters, how larger-than-life she was to so many of us.

There is a part of me, I realize now, that was in denial; that thought she could conquer anything. Including her cancer.

During one particularly charming phase, draped in the shapeless beige and brown garment she dubbed the “mud dress,” Sheryl regularly questioned Americans’ attachment to daily bathing. Wasn’t every other day enough? Her opinions, whether fleeting or entrenched, were always strengthened by conviction.

She was a trend setter in matters large and small. Sheryl craved espresso, for example, before most Chicago residents knew what it was. Leading to the time we were compelled to drive through heavy traffic to the one place on Clarke Street where she was certain she could secure it.

Around that same time while traveling in Italy, a precursor of many more trips Sheryl would take, she savored espresso for breakfast, followed by all manner of gelato, pasta, roasted vegetables and grilled meats throughout the rest of the day. Her friend the chef -- one of many she had in every area of expertise -- had provided the list of essential restaurants and foods to experience.

Sheryl had abundant physical beauty and was for many a fashion icon, albeit an unorthodox one. But she never got stranded in the superficial.

She believed in freedom, equality and kindness, and knew how to make them come alive. She delivered phrases that lingered. “Life’s little indignities, of which there are many,” she once said in conversation. A pithy line and another of Sheryl’s gifts, expanding one’s interpretation of the world.

Sometimes, after another satisfying conversation with her, it would be difficult not to wonder how Sheryl came to possess such shrewd insight, how she could possibly know all of this. Her observations on relationships, raising kids, politics, the media, medicine and many other topics were unnervingly dead on. She knew -- who knows how -- as well as any venture capitalist at one demo day she attended, which start-up company had the most potential. And before I could tell her about the newspaper series I co-authored, she called to say she had read it and was certain it would win the Pulitzer Prize. Which it did.

Other times conversations would be more, well, puzzling. Did she really believe that the secret to a better organized refrigerator -- Hank are you with me here -- involved replacing the old one? How could she, after so many decades, with so little hard evidence, still contend that the ping pong ball had catapulted into another dimension?

The critical takeaway: No matter what Sheryl was doing or saying or thinking, it had meaning.

Not the kind of meaning that lands on news budgets or makes its way into politician’s speeches. It was a deeper meaning. We all instinctively knew that Sheryl got at, and helped us get at, the essentials of life.

She was heart and soul and joy de vivre and the world’s preeminent authority on living in the moment. She could have applied her considerable talents anywhere, but chose to spend her time with us.

To my great comfort, Sheryl said sometime in the months before she died that she had no regrets. How could she have had any though? Relative to many, she lived a thousand lives.

Some days, I read her texts and emails in an attempt to pretend she is still here. I miss her terribly, but am so infinitely grateful that I knew her well enough to miss her so much now.

And I, like many others in Sheryl Larson’s orbit, cannot imagine how much duller my life would have been without her.

Sheryl loved to try new dining experiences.  While in Houston, she knew more about the hip restaurants than we did.  We would plan a trip to an interesting ethic restaurant and and it was always fun and a hit.  One day, Shereyl selected a Chinese restaurant in China Town.  As we drove up, the shopping center had signage only in Chinese.  We were the only non Asian dinners.  The hostess seated us at table for 4. The waitstaff did not speak English. The menu was in Chinese but in our gluttenous American way, we pointed to what we wanted and ordered many interesting dishes. The waitress motioned that we needed to move to a larger table. We must have ordered too much! As the food came, ever dish was more delicious except when the "blood curd" soup was presented.  The waitress somehow communicate to us to not to eat the red blood broth. John is the only one who tried the soup.  Hank, Cheryl and I said - NO WAY! Yes, the waitress was correct, we had way over ordered but every item was spetacular and it was worth the experience.  A fun evening with Sheryl and Hank.  
Marsha and John, Houston 

I was lucky enough to get to know and spend time with Sheryl at the barn. A very smart, strong and fun person. One of the kindest people I have known.