Pamela Jean Hardy

From the day she was born, on February 10, 1962, in Grand Rapids, Michigan, all she wanted was to be a mom. She got to work on that dream early by caring for her youngest brother, Steven, as if he were her own. Some days of her childhood, she didn't eat so that he could. That's because, when Pam loved someone, her only instinct was to offer everything she had to give.

When she first met her husband, Jeff, as a teenager, what she had to give was hot fudge. She worked at Superburger in Jupiter, and she thought such a handsome and outgoing customer deserved extra fudge in his shake. For the nearly 39 years they spent together after running off to marry--with a doctored driver's license that Pam, who was underage but clever, claimed had been through the washing machine--she never missed a chance to give him extra anything. She filled his world with color, his plate with food, his heart with happiness, and his house with children.

And those children. In all of history, no one has loved anyone more than Pam loved Brooke, Austin, Cassidi, and Carter. From their births, she showered them with affection and attention; she showed them what it meant to be hardworking and kind. Despite a demanding career in restaurant management, she made it to every field trip, every softball game, every award ceremony, every school play. She was there for them, every time. Because she was, they learned to believe in themselves unconditionally, as she did. They learned to be funny, as she was. They learned to care, as only she could.

That care came in an unlimited supply. It branched out from her babies and scooped up their friends. Pam never met a kid she didn't mother at least a little. She took so many so fiercely into her heart that, at times, her own children got jealous. If a kid needed compassion or help (or dinner), Pam's arms (and kitchen) were open. They opened widest for Courtney, Terra, Raechel, Carmen, and Ashley, the sister- and children-in-law she embraced immediately and without hesitation. They closed tightest around Chailyn, Bronte, and Moxie, the niece and granddaughters she adored instantly and with complete focus.

With complete focus, what Pam could do was astounding. She could (and did) make her teenage marriage last a lifetime. She could (and did) use her high-school education to propel four children to advanced degrees. She could (and did) become the first woman to officiate at the Florida High School Athletics Association State Wrestling Championship, after spending her earliest married years bringing her infants to Jeff's tournaments and then many later years earning the respect of the referees, coaches, and athletes involved in the mostly male sport. She could (and did) build a small business that made a big impact, after her meticulous efforts led to the perfect pop.

Her business, Mom's Pops, embodied Pam: it was cool, fresh, fun. It was about family, service, and Palm Beach County. It was vibrant colors and intense happiness. It was handmade, with love. And through it, Pam found a whole new community to nurture. Her fellow green market vendors became more like family than friends. She knew her customers by name and favorite flavor. She helped children learn to count by choosing coins to pay for their pops, and she let them hug as long as they liked when they ran over to share that they'd come to the market just to find her. Even if she had explained every ingredient and method, duplicating what she made would be impossible. The secret was in Pam's impossibly strong, incomparably tender hands.

Pam carried every conversation; she was the star of every room. Her creativity could solve any problem; her sweetness could soothe any bad mood. She had the softest skin, the most beautiful, unmistakable hair. And though she wasn't always sure about her own importance, people who met Pam walked away knowing exactly how much she valued them. Looking through her eyes, people could see their worth--because she saw the good in everyone.

She is survived by her unbelievably lucky family, including her husband, children, grandchildren, brother, sister-in-law, and niece, and by her many dear friends. Although no one was ready to let her go, Pam's beloveds are comforted by knowing that she was met by others she cherished, including her grandma and grandpa, Edna and Mac; her mother, Rae; and her brothers, Jimmy and Johnny.

Instead of flowers, Pam would want contributions to the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation, an organization working to end a disease that affects so many children and that she lived with for 25 years. But for those who prefer flowers, Pam loved sunflowers--which is fitting, as she is our sunshine. Always and forever.

Arrangements under the direction of Aycock-Riverside Funeral and Cremation Center, Jupiter, FL.