I loved holding her hand. It warmed you up. She never held on too tight, yet you were always embraced. This was my mother. Never one to impose herself, but always there when needed. A person of true kindness. Our Mom was a most gentle soul who was selfless in an uncommon way, but not in a weak kind of way. I just don't think that she needed ego. To me, that speaks to strength - she knew who she was and what was important. What takes some people a lifetime of trial and error, she seemed to live effortlessly. And that was her ability to make you feel loved, to make you feel special, to make you feel like you were the most important person in the room. And all of this without any sense of agenda or distraction common to most of us. A chorus that I heard many times from friends was "Your Mom is a Saint". As I grew older and realized just how deceptively difficult it is to be selfless I came to believe that she was truly blessed. You knew it when you looked into her face or held her hand. - Stephen, her loving son