For Mimi

God gave a great gift to the world in July of 1919. A gift of light, love, and laughter. A gift of humor, grace and humility. A gift to be protected and kept in a safe place. He gave the world one of His greatest creations. He gave Modena and Dee a unique daughter. He gave Nolan and Bonnie a cherished sister. He gave Floyd a beloved wife. He gave Bill and Judy an amazing mother. And He gave Sara her treasured Mimi.

All my life you taught me things…how to reach the cookies in the cookie jar without making a sound, how to make the best mud-pies this side of the Red River, how to make imaginary tea taste like heaven. But, more than any of that, you taught me how to feel adored. I never questioned your love and devotion to the blond-headed firecracker who repeated words like a magpie, and told jokes just to see you smile. Whether it was sitting on the porch eating M&Ms or listening to your voice read me the same story everyday, when I sat next to you, I was safe. I felt at ease and completely loved.

From a distance, the letters flew, when we moved around and changed lives. The phone number was always the same and the sweet voice on the other end was such a comfort. When frigid wind later blew around a campus dorm, collect calls were accepted and hours were spent poring over every detail of college life. Every birthday was a celebration, every Christmas a production of epic proportions, every tradition made was kept safe and special.

When tragedy struck our family, you rallied behind us all. You opened your heart and home to a young boy who desperately needed Mimi-love. You wrapped him into the folds of your heart, and never let him go. He loves you for that, and is so proud to call you his. You remained the rock in the tumultuous seas of life. You were the beacon of security and love and home. You were the safe place to fall, the shoulder to cry on, and the voice of reason.

Over the years, the old house under the sycamore trees was the house of memories: Kids playing in the side yard, Easter egg hunts, family pictures, Sunday dinners, cowboys and Indians, introductions, announcements, board games, chocolate pies, fashion shows, “First-born-baby-boys”, “Curly-headed dolls”, sleep-overs, make-overs, weddings, funerals, birthdays, Mother’s Days, even just Tuesdays. Friends gathered, love was shared, and laughter echoed from the rafters. The place on the end of the couch will always be yours.

You were many things in your life: a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother, a mother-in-law, a grandmother, an aunt, a niece, a cousin, and a friend. The void you leave is great. I know that I speak for the entire family and for all the friends when I say: We love you, more that words can express. We are grateful to have had you in our lives. And we are so glad that for a few moments, we got to be a part of your life too.

Mildred Rubarts Galyon

July 24, 1919-August 9, 2009