Linda M. Jacobus
February 23, 1953 - May 5, 2009

My mom lost her battle to breast cancer in 2009.  I told the story of her battle here.  I invite you to read it.  But breast cancer did not define my mom.  Life defined my mom and this page is a tribute to her life. 

My mom was not perfect.  Nobody is.  But she was the perfect mom!
She lived and loved big -- with all her heart.  Her smile was infectious and her blue eyes seemed to dance.  

Her house was always open and a party was always being planned.  Her dining room table was the place to be.  Food and wine flowing, friends and family gathered, boisterous conversation swirling.  The entertainer. 

The way I remember her in my dreams -- sitting around the kitchen table while most the house was still asleep.  Drinking coffee in her robe.  Making lists of things to come.  Sharing early morning whispers.  

Living four hours apart I cherished our nightly (yes EVERY night) conversation during my commute home from work.  She was the first one I'd call with big or bad news.  The one I could cry to, share thoughts I was too embarrassed to share with anyone else.  No one knew me or ever will know me the way she did.  My rock.

She never met my boys.  I never got to see her hold her grandchildren.  Never got to ask her advice on how to raise a child.  Never got to share that bond of motherhood with her.  A motherless mother.

But then I look at my boys.  Sam's strong and stubborn will.  His devotion, his heart.  When he loves he loves big.  That's my mom.

And Will.  How fitting he was born on her birthday.  Looking into his eyes I can see her soul.  His eyes are hers.  They dance -- sparkle.  Blue-grey -- big!  My happy sweet party boy.

She may not be here but she's not gone.  She lives on.  In me.  In my boys.  In so many others she touched with her light.   

Every day without her hurts but everyday with her was a gift.