My own mother died 36 years ago, and Liz stepped in and said, “You can call me Mom”. From then on Liz was indeed my mom. She consoled me, she supported me, she helped me look ahead, she flew 2000 miles to help me with my third son, a newborn. Always gracious, generous in love. Genuine love. She made the best spaghetti sauce. She had a recipe for homemade cough syrup for my boys that won the day. She stitched baby quilts. She remembered everybody’s birthday in the whole family. Liz lived the last 20 months of her life seven minutes from me. It was the best. Twice a week we saw each other….. shopping, having Bengal Spice tea and vanilla wafers, talking family history, visiting our home, mending hems, going to the American Swedish Institute, baking scones, seems like everything was a piece of life to live together. And we laughed so much! I am very saddened by her death. Sitting with her those last weeks was an honest privilege. What a strong and loving woman. I miss her so very much. Love, Margaret, daughter-in-law who loved her like a daughter.