She had the brightest eyes and smile that lit up like a Christmas tree when she was happy (which was most of the time). She’d come home from work, crack open a can of veggies to go with some hastily thrown together meat and grain (Thank God my grandparents lived downstairs and did the “real” cooking), while singing Dionne Warwick songs (You’ll never get to heaven, and Alfie, etc).

She was tougher on me than a drill sergeant, but after a good interactive whipping, she’d kiss me, give me my favorite strawberry icecream, then let me (her oldest girl) hang out in her bed and watch a comedy past my usual bed time.

She had an infectious laugh that made the doctors and orderlies in the hospital (where she was a nurse) fall in love with her. She loved to dance and sing. Over 300 hospital staff showed up at her funeral at age 29.

We didn’t have many years together, but no one can replace my beautiful mom in my heart.