Lois Edna Drury

My grandmother Lois Drury has meant a lot to so many people, and your presence here signifies just how many lives she impacted during her 92 years here on earth. So on behalf of our family, thank you.

Some of you knew her as Mom, Grandma, Great Grandma, Lois, Little Lois or dear friend. I am sure they called her many things over the years. To me and her 8 other grandchildren she was simply Grandma and to all of us, she was a pretty amazing lady. She was a friend to so many different types of people, whether you knew her for a few minutes or for decades.

She was a devoted wife and mother. Always being selfless and generously giving of her time and skill in order to present her children with their best foot forward. She would often gladly sacri-fice material items in order to provide more for her children. Her sacrifices resulted in accolades being given to her children such as my father Ron being recognized at school as the best dressed. She also gave her children greater non-material gifts to be handed down, to sustain their spirit and nourish their souls. Such as kindness, integrity, resilience and a lifetime of love.

In the banking world she was known as being both extremely accurate and efficient in bank tell-ing. Being the face of the bank came easy for my grandmother who was an extremely social person by nature. During a time when most woman weren’t leading the charge in the financial sector my grandmother made a lasting career in the small town community bank. She took pride in the work accomplished during her tenure.

My grandmother was a strong willed lady. Although she was just over five feet tall with a petite frame she was a force to be reckoned with. Especially in the bowling alley as a teammate in bowling league. Her demeanor in the league was always focused with her eye on the prize. I recall how excited she was when I agreed to sponsor her bowling team after starting my first company. I delivered the uniforms to the bowling alley during a practice and she lite up with pride. To the extent she walked me around, introducing me to everyone in the bowling alley that day.

Throughout the years there were countless memories of family gatherings, holiday celebrations, and endless card games on hot summer nights spent at her house that will fill our hearts with happiness, even during this difficult time.

It’s the little things that seem to stand out the most—her love of playing Canasta, Bonanza or other western movies playing on the tv in the background, her endless supply of coffee, the aroma of her kitchen or a “hello” from the other side of the door letting you know it was all right to come in.

Later in life she became a traveler and connected to the beauty that she had always dreamt of seeing firsthand. Growing older never slowed her quest for adventure. The same adventure she experienced with my grandfather. The one that makes your feet tap when music is playing or dance as if no one is watching. Trust me when I say she shared many happy dancing days in her lifetime whether it with her husbands or when teaching her children.

I’m sure everyone here has memories much like mine. They are good memories, something we’ll always have to cherish. It isn’t often in our lives that we come across someone so special that that person stays with you forever. Grandma was that kind of person.

The only way to get hurt in this life is to care. Grandma cared more than most, loved more than most and was made to suffer more than most because of just how much she cared.

When I think of the ideal caregiver, I immediately think of my grandmother. She spent her entire life caring for others. Many professional caregivers said that my grandmother set a high standard for them after watching her treatment of my grandfather. She had an unwavering grit to her that didn’t allow her to offer anything but the best care a person could provide a loved one.

But no matter how many times she was knocked down or made to endure things that no one should, she just kept coming back; caring more and loving more—opening herself up to even more pain. Yet there were never any bitterness—it was the only way she knew how to live.

The kind of love Grandma felt for us was a love without condition. She may not have approved of everything we did, may not have liked some of the decisions we made but she never lectured. She just kept loving us, letting us know that she was there and if we ever needed her, we could count on her to listen, to comfort, to help.

She lived a simple life. It didn’t take much to make her happy—a phone call, a card, a visit or a kiss before saying good night. We were the most important people in the world to her. She lived to make our lives better and was proud of us.

To think that someone like her felt that way about us should make us all feel more than just a little good. We can never forget that there is a part of her in each of us, something that she gave to us and asked nothing for in return.

I remember holding her hands as a child, how delicate and soft they seemed and yet that never made them seem any less worn or sturdy. Her hands told stories of different times, of different worlds and hardships. She had grown up worlds away from me, at a different time, in an era and a life that I would never know.

There have been and will be times in our lives when situations arise where we’ll want so much to talk to her, be with her or ask her just what we should do. I hope that, when those times come, we can begin to look to each other and find that part of her that she gave to each of us.

Maybe we can learn to lean on each other and rely on each other the way we always knew that we could with her. Maybe then she won’t seem quite so far away.

So, for your wisdom, your tenderness and compassion, your understanding, your caring and your love; thank you, Grandma. We are your legacy.