Remembering Nancy:
She Knew All This and More

Recollections – From Her Four Children

Remembering Mom, “She Just Had a Way”.

Writing a reflection, a remembrance of someone you love should be the easiest thing to do, yet I found this so very, very difficult. In a way, it’s like saying good-bye and I wanted that final ‘good-bye’ to be perfect. 

After much reflection and prayer, I realized I will never, could never, say good-bye and there is no need for perfection. She knew, truly knew, how deeply I loved her.

As the youngest child and only daughter we had a special connection – a unique bond that was always ‘Mom’, but sometimes a ‘friend’ and even ‘sister-like’ as time and circumstances called for. She sensed what I needed before I even knew what I needed or wanted.

She loved “the little things”. It was easy and natural for her to make a routine get-together (shopping, going out for lunch, etc.) into a special event. She just had a way.

She loved her children and her grandchildren fiercely.  I watched and learned, as the youngest child, that her love was pure – unwavering, and she would move mountains with her faith and that love.  Family was first but she also had and made friends easily.  If you were my Mom’s friend, you were family. I witnessed this and she taught me the meaning, value, and blessing of true friendships.

My Mom was a worrier like me, but she was open with me and shared her coping skills.   She taught me the importance of faith, trust, patience, and the need for balance in life. She had a good sense of humor and just had a way of making things ‘lighter’ when it needed to be. She taught me the importance of laughter. So thankful for that.

My Mom embraced life fully – the sadness, the joys and all the in-betweens.

She was always present, and you knew you were loved unconditionally.

I have wonderful, vivid pictures in my mind of my Mom, and I carry all that they represent in my heart. 

I hope to honor her by living my life and loving my family and friends as fiercely as she did.

I learned from the best.

Pat Ryan-Dice, Nancy’s daughter and youngest child


How do I best remember my Mother? Is there one moment that stands out among others? An epiphany moment. A moment when I realized who she truly was?  A moment, importantly, when I understood how she thought and felt and saw the world. A moment when I believed I saw through her eyes?  I don’t really know.

There are a handful of special moments I carry inside. Those moments are literally priceless. As I reflected on those moments, I realized most of those moments happened after my Father passed. Thus, I am mindful as I write this “recollection “ that those last years were only a small slice of her full life. There is much I did not see. My recollections here are very limited and incomplete. She was much more than my words suggest.

In those last years, I spent lots of time with my Mother. I helped her to get her affairs in order. Financial and legal tasks. Other mundane everyday tasks. The good news: her house was in order when she passed. That task was important to her. I remember I kept her small Vanguard account active for almost ten years after she passed. Coming to terms with loss is not easy. Not once and done. We remember forever. For my Mother, there was no unfinished business. Nothing important left unsaid. All her children knew the depth of her love for us and for our children (her grandchildren).

We all go through life learning as we go. Seeing and not seeing. And often what we do see in another’s life we do not fully understand. We do not see deeply enough. We see at best “just glimpses”. However, in this respect, I was lucky. I saw my mother in those last years in her uniqueness. I saw her everyday worries and her hopes. As my Father’s caregiver and fellow traveler and later as a widow, I saw “inside” her world. Saw the ups and downs. Saw her persistence. I saw her re-learn a world, if that makes sense. In those complex roles, I saw her become her true self.  

Yes, a bold claim but true. She did the hard things first. She became whole. Integrated. Not wounded. Not fragmented. Simply put, she became a woman who showed her love to others in completely unselfish ways. I believe this without any reservations. I saw her wholeness and experienced her love firsthand. Saw her “rounding out a life”. She was at peace with herself and at peace with this life and its twists and turns and surprises. She had her feet on the ground. In caring for her husband and later as a widow, she was resourceful, resilient, caring, not lost inside. Yes, she knew great sadness in her life. And she also knew great joy and always found a way to be there for and with others.

By temperament and interests, I am more like my Father. However, my task in “rounding out a life” is to learn from my Mother. Learn from her experience. Learn from her wholeheartedness. Learn to be present to others, be a resource, and generous like she was. Counting myself lucky to have her as my guide.

Joe, Nancy’s eldest son