I just wanted to share some of my favorite memories of my mom.

She would take any excuse to celebrate. I moved in to my freshmen dorm on my 19th birthday. Later that day, my mom and dad showed back up with a big sheet cake and candles. She was genuinely excited for a surprise birthday party. I was mortified; on a hall with too many Matts, I was Cake Matt for weeks.

When she got a project in mind, she dove in head-first. For my dad’s 40th birthday, she decided that she would write “Dave’s 40” on the lawn in fertilizer so that you could read it in dark green, healthy grass. She went a little overboard, and you could still read the letters burned into the lawn when they sold the house over a year later.

I’ve never had to doubt that my mom loved me and was proud of me. She made that clear whenever possible, even when it wasn’t warranted. Once in college I woke up to a congratulatory email from my grandmother; my mom had called her first thing in the morning to brag about me having the highest GPA in the college of science. The problem was that I was never in the college of science. A friend had drunk-dialed my parents late on a Thursday night. Instead of hanging up, he decided to tell them he was the dean of science calling after 10pm just to tell them the good news. At least she waited until the next morning to proudly spread the news.

Mom always kept the house open for the neighborhood kids, first in Park Forest and then in Chestnut Ridge. If any of you reading this used to dump your bicycle in our driveway, hide in the back yard for flashlight tag, or meet at our house to catch the bus to prom, know that my mom always asked after you and always loved having you around.

Thank you all for your kind words these past few days. It helps to hear how much my mom meant to all of you.