My sister Nancy would have wanted us all to celebrate her life. 

It made me smile to envision her being greeted by those that had passed before her; our mother, our father, our aunts and uncles, Chet and Mabel Davis, her friends, family members and so many others. 

I cannot possibly cover all of the emotions I feel. Allow me to offer just a few....

Nancy helped raise me early on, when our mother was not feeling well. In a sense, she became my second mother. She was only 10 years old when I was a baby and we bonded. Her nurturing ways grew, helping out when she could. 

When she went into the Convent, I was only seven years old. We were not allowed to see or speak with her for a year. I couldn’t understand why they would not allow me to see or talk with my sister. I cried nearly every day for that year. 

Around 1959, I saw the movie Journey to the Center of the Earth, starring Pat Boone. Nancy loved the music of Pat Boone, especially the song, “Love Letters in the Sand”. The movie had a great impact on me, an impressionable little guy. While she was in the Convent, I wrote her a child’s babbling’s on how Pat Boone became separated from his peers and lost in the caverns of an Icelandic volcano. I expressed how concerned I was that he was lost, but to my relief, finally reunited. She wrote back, “Billy, once you receive my letter, I’m confident Mr. Boone is now back with his family, happy and safe. I’m sure he would be very happy to know you cared. Love, Your Sister, Nancy.” 

In high school, I shared with her my book of poems I had written. Something deeply touched her, tears rolling down her cheeks, as she silently read my poem entitled “I Walk Alone in the Lonely Woods”. All she could say, as she looked up at me was, “This is so beautiful”. 

During her stay in the Convent, we always looked forward to visiting her on Sundays, when it was allowed. But, things were changing. When she was around 30 years old, she came home to visit. I was outside washing my car. Something wasn’t right. Her head was down and she had a forlorn look on her face. I said, “Are you okay Sis?” She didn’t respond. A few more moments passed, I put down the sponge, looked directly at her caringly and said, “Nancy, what’s wrong?” She just looked at me unable to say what age felt. Finally, I said, “Wouldn’t you be happier with a husband and children?” Then, the tears began to flow. I knew I hit a deep down feeling of being torn between duty and change. Shortly thereafter, she resigned from the Convent to begin a new life’s journey. 

She allowed me to meet some or she told me about her dating prospects, looking for any initial nay or yay’s I could provide. 

At her wedding to Harry in 1973, she demanded that my band play at their wedding. Looking back, the 8 piece band including a brass section, was loud, brash and probably very inappropriate...a far cry from polkas and waltzes. But still, this is what she wanted. 

In 1997, I had a medical procedure done in downtown Chicago. She stayed with me that night, until my surgeon released me. She always said, “I’ll always be there for you, Bill.” 

When she was in the process of earning her PhD and dissertation, I sent her a reassuring note in so many words saying that everyone was behind her on this. I wrote, “Don’t quit, YOU CAN DO THIS!” She later said that she would often look at my note right above her for encouragement when she said the process was overbearing. 

I always remember the great times and fabulous dinners she and Harry would host at their homes in LaGrange, Chicago and Aurora. My only regret moving to California was no longer being in close proximity to her. The reassurance was in knowing we would visit each other as often as we could. On the Tuesday before she passed, we talked about her coming out to visit us in California in April, to continue celebrating her 80th and other milestone family birthdays. 

I felt the unconditional love as long as I can remember. A part of me died with her. I couldn’t have asked for a more loving sister. 

As you can tell by all the pictures, Mom was a very devoted loving grandmother who was always excited to spend time with her grandchildren. She offered to help care for our two boys when my husband and I went back to work. As a result of this, she has been able to help raise the boys since birth (being there at the hospital, visiting, weekly care, and all the times they "babysat").
On average from Charlie being 12 weeks to Benny being 4 years old, she would spend 2-3 full days each week either at our house or theirs giving the grandchildren tons of love, attention, and care for their basic needs. Dad would often join her when she came to our house. You may have heard stories about the boys from Mom and Dad based on all the time they spent caring for them. We know we are truly fortunate for our children to have been in the care of our amazing parents and learn similar values and trust.
For Charlie, our firstborn, there was a journal where I had asked Mom to keep records of each day. This journal is now a tremendous keepsake for our family as it shows how much of herself she poured into the care for Charlie.
The picture attached is an excerpt from one of the days in the journal. You can see where the handwriting shifts from mine to my mother's cursive. She would always write in cursive, Charlie now at 12 is getting better at reading her cursive writing. Here are some of her comments specifically from that day: "He welcomed me today with giggles and raspberries. I am thrilled to be part of his life in this ongoing way."

Terri Davis Mossman - daughter of Nancy

You may have heard Mom share the story of her wedding dress, including the story in her memoir. Mom wore the same wedding dress in 1973 as her mother did in 1940, she added length and new lace. Then when it was time for me to get married, there wasn't any dress shopping. The only wedding dress that was ever tried on was Mom's/Grandma's. Mom and I worked together with a dressmaker to alter the dress to fit and modernize the style. That experience was a lot of fun with multiple dress fittings and collaborations on what we could do to keep its beauty and traditional elegance. I was extremely fortunate to be able to wear this gorgeous "something borrowed" wedding dress in 2004. 
Mom did mention in her memoir, "I believe it could uphold another wedding, maybe even in twenty years." 
A picture of the photo frame that has all three of us each on our wedding day in the same gown is under the Gallery Photo section.
Terri Davis Mossman - daughter of Nancy