EULOGY Lovedy J. Love Losing a loved one is one of the most difficult things we can go through. As we sit here, we miss Lovedy – as a wife, mother, grandmother, other relative, or friend – but let it not be with a burdened heart and a bowed head that we remember. We may no longer see Lovedy, but we’ll always have the special moments we shared with her. Today, let us speak in celebration of Lovedy’s life, and focus on sharing our memories of her – as we all know, that is what Lovedy would have wanted. Lovedy was a kind, giving and strong woman who truly loved her family and was a friend to everyone. Lovedy also had many interests and hobbies. She was a terrifically talented woman, and was always willing to teach and help others with artistic, household, and cooking projects. In her remembrance of Lovedy, Joanne Love recalls family get-togethers at her home, her recipes that have become family legacy, square dancing, tole painting, weaving, her beautiful skin, her amazing memory, and her unwavering love of family. As a wife to Charles, Lovedy was always loyal, loving, generous, supportive and sincere. Her grandson Troy recalls, “Grandma and Grandpa together showed me how to love. Still to this day, I have not witnessed a love as true and inspiring as theirs. They did everything together with such ease and incredible cooperation. The only arguments I ever saw were the two of them arguing over who would get to do the tough job, rather than who would get out of it. They loved to dance together, travel together, and cook together, as they would with so many other things – without missing a step.” Her son Michael remembers “a mother and dad that worked and played together, and provided a common front on adolescent issues. They were both supportive parents – you made your decision and they supported you. They were always more than willing to offer input.” As a mother, Michael recalls, “My mother was more than just a mom. For example, she was my den leader in cub scouts; we made “Buddy Burners,” went on hikes, tied knots, and did all sorts of crafty things. When I visited Astoria United Methodist Church, the pastor introduced me to the congregation by stating, ‘His mother was my den leader.’ While Dad was a controller of a large insurance company, Mom kept the books at home, and they balanced to the penny. She had records that explained any transaction since the start of their marriage. When I wanted to play the trumpet in school, the whole family drank powdered milk for about two years to help pay the cost of the instrument. She was also creative in teaching me responsibility with my toys. I figured as long as they were in the backyard, that was okay – but Mom wanted them put away. So one evening, she put them all in the garbage can and was going to show me the next morning before the garbage man came. But before she got the chance to show me, the garbage was taken away. I got my lesson, but it was more than she had bargained for. I also remember her as a driven and talented artisan. Mom wanted a chair recovered, took a class to learn how to do it, and did it herself. It was a professional job, but her hands were sore for a long time after.” Christine recounts, “I am in part who I am because of my parents. I always felt loved and accepted by both my parents. My mother was loving and caring. She was very sensitive, and it always bothered her when people would say one thing, and yet, mean another thing. She and my father helped me to look at people beyond the façade they tried to portray. This taught me a lot through the years. I learned to become wary of people who promised one thing and yet delivered another. My mother was one of the few people who had the courage to be honest and point this out to me. My mother was wondrously creative, taught me to look at things differently, and to find solutions to things that others never considered. My mother taught me to be excited to learn new things, and opened a world of wonder to me! She cared for me for months when I was on bed rest to keep from losing Amy. She was always there to listen to me and my children when we needed a shoulder to cry on. My parents were always there to support and love us no matter what. My mother cried many a time with me and my children, and I am sure, even more so with her mate, my father. My mother’s sensitive and creative manner helped us all to be better people. One of the greatest things I think my mother taught me was patience.” As a grandmother and a great grandmother, Lovedy loved her grandchildren and truly cherished every second she shared with them, even from a distance. In remembering his grandmother, Ben recalls, “I remember going to their house for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. Grandma would be working away in their kitchen. She always had bread and butter pickles, no dill. I remember her milk canister that she had painted with a blue chicken on it. I remember hearing Grandma play her organ. And I remember going to square dance with them a couple times. My most vivid memory of that, besides their outfits and Grandpa’s bolo tie, was the caller saying “promenade.” That was fun. When Andrea and I visited them in Arizona a couple of years ago, I realized that I may be more like Grandma and Grandpa than my own parents – if that is possible. Either that, or at their age they’re more open to talk about anything.” Troy remembers, “When I was little, at the age where I

was not quite school age, but my sister was, Grandma and Grandpa would watch me a lot. They lived just under a mile away. So when my parents were working and my sister was off to school, I would often be over there. I used to call Grandma “Regular Grandma” because I spent so much time with her. I loved the mornings when I stayed with them, just sitting in the kitchen while she and Grandpa made breakfast, and chatting about whatever was on our minds. Grandma was always such a giving person; always far more concerned with taking care of other people than herself. She always showed me how much she loved me every time I saw her. Her affection for all of us was so obvious. Her love made our family feel whole. I have nothing but fond memories of my Grandma. My entire childhood, when I saw her, her eyes would light-up and she would go out of her way to make time for me. She would also go out of her way to make me special food for family gatherings because of my milk allergy – because she did not want me to feel left out. And she enjoyed teaching me how to cook. I wish now that I would have paid better attention. She loved my strange little kid questions, and always took time to answer them. As I grew-up, she always wanted to know what I was doing and always genuinely cared. Even when things were tough, she could show me some good in it, or give good advice. She showered me with love, as she did her whole family.” As for me, I look up to my Grandma as one of strongest women I have ever known. She had the courage to get on a train – alone - and move away from everything and everyone who she had ever known, to pursue the love of her life. When I think about Grandma, I think about how she had a fire for life, and was not about to let go. I also think about how she might help to explain my own driven and stubborn nature. Most of all, I think about how much she truly loved and cherished every second she could spend visiting with, or even just hearing about her family. Indeed, it is so very beautiful and poetic how she continues to bring her family closer and closer together as we sit here today. Lovedy, Mom, Grandma, Great Grandma: We will miss you deeply, but you have not left our hearts, minds or souls. You will live-on forever in our memories. We promise to always celebrate the precious moments were lucky enough to share with you - and to pass them along to others. Grandma, I would like to close with a quote which I dedicate to you and your beautiful legacy: Ralf Waldo Emerson stated, “To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a little bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived; this is to have succeeded.”