Lucinda Ann Mello

If you ever got the chance to visit Lucinda’s home, you were greeted with a tour of her favorite things. Duck figurines swim about the house reaching a crescendo in the kitchen with curtains, hand towels, cookie jars – even measuring cups – donning her favorite animal. Stop by the living room to find her carefully curated collection of Liddle Kiddles, three-inch dolls with themed accessories and brushable hair from her childhood. This theme continued with Madame Alexander dolls in the hutch, and her showpieces in the display cabinet: porcelain dolls she hand-sculpted and painted in the 90s, complete with hand-sewn outfits.

If you were lucky, Lucinda would head upstairs to retrieve her true masterpieces. One at a time, she would reveal them with a grand flourish: meticulously crafted handmade quilts, each one representing hundreds of hours of picking the right fabrics, cutting, and sewing each appliqué piece to perfection. Quilting was a tradition passed down on both sides of the family, with her mother Kathleen (“Honey”), mother-in-law Geneva, and Lucinda all developing their unique style. It is a special feeling to watch your loved ones create heirlooms right before your eyes.

Throughout her life, Lucinda felt the drive to create. This was amplified after she was diagnosed with a chronic illness. Then, her art took on new importance as a form of therapy and necessary medicine. Lucinda bravely fought through dozens of procedures and surgeries for a third of her life, staying positive and trusting in God’s plan.

Like many Navy families, Lucinda called San Diego home. Growing up, Lucinda was the eldest of five children. She helped take care of her siblings however she could, becoming like a second mother in the household. Her skills in the kitchen brought joy to many. For her own children, it was the little touches like adding bits of bacon into the waffle batter and topping cakes with cream cheese frosting and a crushed-up Symphony toffee bar that made it feel like home. She even took the time to turn whole pumpkins into mouthwatering pumpkin pies every Thanksgiving. The pièce de résistance? Her legendary, extra-cheesy lasagna that she baked on special occasions.

Lucinda married Richard two months shy of their twenty-first birthdays. Yes, their birthdays were just a week apart. Throughout their forty-five years of marriage, those seven days were of critical importance in remembering that she was, indeed, younger. She devoted herself to their three children, Christopher, Loralyn, and Brittany, passing on her kindness, vulnerability, silliness, and quiet strength. Lucinda was a caregiver with a generous spirit. This shown through in her chosen professions: nursing and teaching. For more than two decades, she worked as a Registered Nurse in Labor and Delivery and in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, bringing comfort to parents with sick newborns and teaching breastfeeding classes.

After retiring early due to her illness, Lucinda seized the opportunity to go back to school to pursue her dream of becoming a teacher. After seemingly endless papers and exams, she graduated with honors from Cuyamaca College with an associate degree in Elementary Education and from San Diego State University with a bachelor’s degree in liberal studies and a minor in linguistics and ESL. Though her tenure in a formal classroom setting was brief, she was able to realize her dream of teaching, in addition to the time she spent homeschooling her children.

We would be remiss if we mentioned SDSU without retelling one of her favorite stories: Major League Baseball Hall of Famer Tony Gwynn (yes, Mr. Padre himself) once pulled up alongside her in his golf cart, noticing she had difficulty carrying her many books, and gave her a ride across campus. Depending on the telling, innocent flirting may have ensued.

With near certainty, Lucinda was the sweetest person you would ever meet. She was a sensitive soul whose empathy was unmatched. Her heart broke with yours in your lows and hummed with joy in your highs. Through it all, she never lost her childlike wonder.

There was nothing more fun than surprising Lucinda with a present. Over the years, her family learned to get her multiple small gifts, instead of one large one, so they could watch her gleefully unwrap each one. Her joie de vivre was also evident in the little traditions she created for her children growing up, like making colored pancakes on Easter and gifting them a new pair of themed socks each holiday. She knew how to make every occasion special.

Lucinda was a lifelong learner, always reading, watching the History Channel, and growing her many skills. She loved visiting museums and, much to her children’s dismay, stopping to read every placard. Scouring cemeteries to find the oldest headstones was another favorite activity, seeming to be able to imagine full lives for those who came before us. This was seen most clearly in her love of genealogy. Lucinda dedicated years of her life to leafing through old records, exclaiming with joy whenever she found a new tidbit to add to her family tree.

One of Lucinda’s true loves was music. For years, she used her rocking chair for its intended purpose – rocking out – wearing giant headphones and blasting music loud enough for all to hear. On any given day, you may have found her singing along to Prince, Bon Jovi, Linkin Park, Madonna, Hootie and the Blowfish, or Bruce Springsteen.

Lucinda also loved playing the piano – Memories from Cats and On My Own from Les Misérables among her favorites – tickling the ivories on her beloved Granny’s piano for years. The songs she would sing for her children and grandchildren hold a special place in their hearts.

Lucinda was a woman of deep faith and an active member of the church. At Christ Lutheran Church, where her children attended school, she volunteered to teach Vacation Bible School and Sunday School and even played the autoharp in the church band for a time. She got to know many families through different Bible studies over the years and cherished the friendships she made along the way. Lucinda went to be with God her Father on December 21, 2023. She is survived by her spouse Richard, children Christopher (Rachel), Loralyn (Ryan) Cook, and Brittany (Tevy), grandchildren Emma, Ivy, Geneva, and Noah, father Harold (Sharon), siblings Patrick, Leslie, Suzanna, and Joseph, 27 nieces and nephews, and many more extended family. She is preceded in death by her granny Mary Katherine, mother Kathleen, parents-in-law Geneva and Robert, and nephew Brian.