I think of her often. Every sporting event I attend and watch; every football game (Hawks, Longhorns or Cowboys), I always think of her. One of the things I miss is the texts providing words of comfort. I also miss the likes on Facebook. If I’m ever feeling down, I always try to remember the sound of her voice and hearing her voice. I love her and I always will and I know she will always love me too.

Happy Birthday.

No one goes on about their aunt passing. I'm guessing the number of people who were really close with their aunt when they passed is minimal. She was the opposite. She was very much important to my life.

Her last words to me were "I love you so much, more than you'll ever know." She has said that to me probably a hundred times.

I was thinking of posting a sad song to but instead, in honor of her spirit, I'm posting a "you go girl" song for the tough girls in my life.. I think she would like that better.

You were such an incredible, loving, compassionate caring and amazing person it’s hard for me to believe that it’s been two years since you’ve been gone. You are so dearly loved and so dearly missed. Neither illness nor death will ever take away how much you love us. I often felt like a son to you and Uncle Sparky and a brother to V. Everywhere I go, every road trip I take, every football game I go to and see; Hawks, Longhorns or Cowboys, every solo I sing in church, every Sunday I sing, every seizure I have, every Sunday night I bowl, everyday I go to work, I know you’re with me in spirit. I am forever grateful and honored to have been a nephew to you and to have had you as an aunt. You really enhanced my life. I miss seeing your “likes” of my status on Facebook as well as your comments on my posts and I miss our regular correspondances via text and talk. Your absence leaves a hole in our hearts but we rejoice in the fact that we had you as a mother, father, aunt, sister, dear friend and many other titles. We love you and we miss you and we’ll see you again one day. ❤️✝️❤️

https://youtu.be/UR4T0av0o40

Happy Birthday.

My dearest Aunt Lela,

 

You are so much more to me than my aunt.  You are my friend.  You are truly beyond special and words cannot describe how much you mean to me.  Your relationships with everyone are unique, I’m sure. As Veronique said in your obituary, not time nor distance affect your connections with us.  You are thoughtful, kind, jovial, loving, and forgiving.  I wish you were here right now.  You gave me so many wonderful gifts that expressed how you feel about me.  You always had a huge smile and an even huger hug for me no matter the where or what.  Above all you gave me your love, your daughter Veronique and my Uncle Sparky.  We will always be bound by our love for you. You always listened to me rant, counseled me when I needed it, knew when to let me figure it out on my own, and loved me unconditionally. 

 

When I think of you, I remember our visits, our talks, the games we played, the gifts you gave, and your laugh.  I can still hear you laughing, thank you Whoever.  You never, ever let me out of your sight or off the phone without making sure I knew how much you love me.  Not once.  I was the first baby, your first niece on your side of the family so you doted on me then and throughout my whole life. I am truly honored. You love my cousin, your daughter, Veronique and my Uncle Sparky, your husband, so fiercely and with all your might.   And yet you still have so much love to give.

 

I have never been a religious person, but you are a believer and still do not judge me.  Nor have you ever tried to to push your beliefs on me, ever.  Is that a part of your faith?

 

When Veronique told me you were about to pass, I read a book about losing a love.  I didn’t know how to deal.  There was a poem that hit home.  It describes those of us who love you watching you sailing away in a ship saying, “There she goes…” and all of those on the “other side” joyfully cheering, “Here she comes!”  I honestly believe this could not happen any other way.  I believe that you have moved onto another place, a wonderful place that is full of happiness while you look down on us. 

 

That, right there, means that I now have faith.  That is the last and most important gift you could ever give me.  Faith.

 

I love you.  I miss you.  Have a blast!  I hope to see you on the “other side”.

 

Jalane out.

I can't seem to find the words or put them together in a way to describe properly how lucky I feel to have had Lela in my life.
I met Lela while working at Chase, usually after work we'd spend so much time talking about literally everything and anything. She was so understanding and kind and open minded, open hearted. She wore her heart on her sleeves, you knew what she feeling and thinking because she was always true and honest with you. It's so rare to meet a person like this. I miss Lela - I can hear her laugh, I can see her smiling face, feel the comfort she always managed to give. She was and is a best friend to me, always.
I appreciate Lela for inviting me into her family and making me feel so welcome, for allowing me to experience what it means to have a true friend.
There's so much more to say - but I hope the takeaway from this is that I love my friend and she will always be in my heart, and I will always treasure the friendship we had.

Aunt Lela was a woman of many roles. Mother, daughter, wife, aunt, friend and countless others. She was also a teacher in the sense that she taught us how to persevere through adversity in life. Early on in her life, she dealt with tragedy; her father died in a car wreck when she was ten months old and also she had a congenital heart condition and was not expected to make it past 18 months, but that’s exactly what she did. She didn’t scrape by in life, she lived a full eventful life and flourished for six and a half decades. She was a very loving kindhearted person and very compassionate. After Aunt Jean passed away in December 2010, , we started texting and talking more often and she listened to me and gave me advice for whatever came my way. I felt like I was her son in a way. In her final months she faced her declining state courageously and with grace and unfailing love for all of us. I miss her but I’m also very proud to be her nephew and illness nor passing will ever change that