It's been a couple of months since Mom left us, the tears having mostly given way to the smiles of so many great memories. At the risk of sounding cliche, Mom was a terrific role model who afforded me some great life lessons and values, and I will always cherish the bond that we shared. Funny how you so often don't realize at at the time how valuable the experience is, but it usually hits home later in life. I can still hear her laughing when my kids would do something ridiculous, her words "I hope they act just like you did" ringing in my head!

Mom taught me how to clip a coupon and shop for a bargain (perhaps grooming me for my supermarket journey early on), not to waste food ("just cut the bad part off, it's fine!"), and that there is nothing better than homemade ice cream and Grape Nut is still the best flavor ever invented. Any day was a good day for ice cream, but Banana Splits were reserved for special accomplishments like home runs and Honor Roll. There was always an ice cold jar of water in the frig when you came in from playing outside and it was always full despite my inability to operate a kitchen faucet until my teens. Mom taught me never to make fun of those less fortunate than you, and you can get your family to eat liver by calling it Beef Filet.

There are two very profound life lessons from Mom that are etched into my memory. The one and only time that Mom ever struck me in anger was when she caught me in what seemed to me a simple little fib (I hid a football from my brother and told Mom I didn't know where it was). There were no such things as little white lies in Mom's world. You told the truth, always, regardless; and never, EVER lied. Not ever. I do not possess the ability to lie to this day.

The other lesson that I take from Mom is more of an attribute I guess. That is her optimism. Before Rhonna arrived to settle the dust a bit, Mom spent many years nurturing, guiding, and nursing an unruly pack of Type A males. Good Lord, we must have tested every Christian fiber in her body with our endless stream of antics, ideas, and subsequent injuries. But she always had a smile on her face, and always saw the best in every situation, no matter we threw at her. I never valued Mom's outlook more than the day our son Matt was born. Matt was born on a Saturday morning in February 1986, with the unique distinction of not having been announced to the family in any way. Mari and I spent a few extra months trying to figure out how to break the news to everyone, when Matt decided he had to deliver the news himself. I was 21 years old, a brand new father, and scared out of my mind. My first call was to Mom and I proceeded to break into a blubbering and babbling rendition of how she was a grandmother again. She listened quietly and when I finally composed myself enough to catch a breath and listen, she simply said that everything would be all right. True to form, she showed up the next morning in Scranton with my Dad and a van full of every baby need you could ever think of. She was beaming as you would expect and as she swooped Matt up to hold him for the first time, despite all of the fear and anxiety that I still felt; I knew that somehow things would be all right.

Mom, thank you for so many things. Thanks for the love, the laughter, the lessons, the wisdom, and the strength. You were right. It really did turn out all right. Happy Mothers Day.

How do I sum up my thoughts of Grammie? She was one of a kind, loving, caring, and always had a positive can do attitude. Memories? Endless and I do not know where to start. So many that I can think of that are etched in my memory. The ones that really stand out are the sleepovers with Nintendo; annual Christmas parties with homemade ice cream; Family plays (Christopher Robin); the road trips in the van to Salt Springs, Open Door Mission, and other endless destinations; Rollerskating in the office; and most notably the Scooter. The timeless tale begins with a brilliant idea at the time, racing Tygher with a Miami Vice scooter down a steep hill starting at the driveway to the warehouse. It was pretty funny zipping down Akins Road past my family watching in shock. It wasn't funny shortly after looking for a place to roll off the scooter and end up with road rash. After all these years, it is a story that will make us laugh and be told for many years to come. Thank you for being there and taking care of me. I really appreciated everything you did and the times we had together. You will be missed. Love you Grammie, Rest In Peace.

I'll always remember Grammie letting me camp out next to her bed so I could be part of the infamous sleepovers without being a complete baby.  She'd always dangle her hand over the side and leave the closet light on for me.  I hope she knows how much I appreciated that (and the endless supply of lettuce/cheese/mayo sandwiches!) -- Katie