Good morning everyone.
When my
mom's sister, Muriel, passed away, Geraldine was
listed in
the obituary as a resident of Paris, France.
Although she never lived there, we all
know why
that's fitting.
With her
French ancestry, her bohemian sensibility and
her artist's beret, she may as
well have been there.
When she
lost her
husband, the
love of
her life, she found another love, her art.
Specifically, portrait painting.
For Gerry, portraiture was
her way
of studying the fragile human condition - an exploration into who really
people are.
Like Gerry, we're always searching.
Gerry always walked into new relationships with open eyes, open arms and
an open heart, but it's those blue eyes many of us will remember.
Losing a
husband and
a daughter and becoming the victim of a
violent crime, all within 14 years,
required courage.
And along with that courage came a good sense of
humor, wit
and a
reputation - in Gerry's
own words - "one tough cookie."
If there was anything to rival her passion for art, it was
motherhood.
She
was always bragging that her
proudest accomplishment was raising her children.
One of
the pieces of wisdom our mom
imparted to
us children was that "Man is the captain
of his own destiny" and we all took that to heart.
We'll all
miss Gerry's stories, the
short ones, which were few, and
the long ones, which were many.
As you all recall, she could talk.
We celebrate the long life of this amazing, one of a kind
woman.
The
people she
loved and
cared about are all
right here, honoring her.
She's at peace ... one final adventure
where beauty is a constant
- in heaven with the Father, the Son and the
Holy Spirit.
No
doubt she's telling stories there.