Our mother had many roles in her life, Mom to me, my sisters Barbara and Lori, and our spouses Irma and Dave, wife of almost 60 years to our father Bill, sister to her siblings Bob, Ian, and Jim, “Aunt Carol” to a plethora of nieces and nephews, and “Grammy”, her very favorite title, to her granddaughters, Chelsea and Caitlin. As her family, we were very privileged to know Mom as genuinely warm, outrageously generous, constantly encouraging, often funny, quirky, and always optimistic. She was a woman both sincerely humble and wickedly smart.

No letter can begin to capture all the aspects of someone with as rich a character, history, and qualities as my mom, but let me share a little with you. Our mom was a fantastic cook whose point of pride was making sure no one ever walked away from her house or her table hungry. She was a skillful poker player, often underestimated. She consistently won in poker clubs and Nevada casinos, once winning a $25,000 jackpot. Her brothers remember her as a wild and fearless young woman jumping into her car on a Friday night and driving from LA to Vegas or San Diego to see the sights. My siblings and I knew her as loving and adventurous, bundling all the kids into the car and rumbling down PCH listening to Roger Miller for a week of beach camping.

I can’t begin to recount it all, but most importantly, we all remember mom as always smiling. No matter the adversity, she found a bright side to every problem and the solution to every dilemma. Our parents had much hardship and many difficulties in their lives together. No matter what they faced, they did so together and always with mom firmly deciding that things had worked out “for the best”. During the 70s, financial hardships required our parents to move the five of us into a tiny battered mobile home on a relative’s ranch in rural Texas. Working difficult jobs for long hours and little money, mom never complained. Instead, she took joy in her long walks on the ranch, learning to shoot a .22 pistol, and writing clever, quirky poetry. She never spoke of the many hardships (and there were many). Instead, she recounted the extraordinary life experiences and the fact that this time had brought us closer together as a family. That is how it was with our mom. Every hardship was a learning experience. Every setback was a chance to grow. Each challenge was a blessing, and all her memories became remarkable experiences to share with others.

Our mother was born in 1943 and grew up very much a child of the ’50s. She was Chubby Checker, not The Beatles. I don’t think her parents ever thought of encouraging her to go to college. They assumed she would many a nice Jewish boy, perhaps a lawyer, and raise children. When she married “that cowboy”, my father, they disowned her and reconciled only after my birth. Mom was an incredibly bright and successful A student at Whittier High School. She might have had any career she wanted.But she became a full-time mom and worked a series of jobs where she always rose to the top.