Dana Jean (Manuel) Cross

Dana Cross, age 77, passed away peacefully, leaving behind a family who adored her, a world full of friends — some of whom she met just last week — and at least three secret reserves of candy that her loved ones are still actively searching for.

Born with an extraordinary capacity for love, an equally extraordinary capacity for sweets, and a gift for conversation that could outlast any clock, Dana lived her 77 years with a generous spirit and a warm heart.

Dana’s greatest joy was her family. She was the devoted and loving wife of Dennis Cross, her partner and the man who, let’s be honest, was probably well aware of her secret candy stash but knew better than to say a word. Together they built a family that was, by all accounts, her proudest and most cherished achievement.

She was the beloved mother of Dan, who is married to Tracy, and Mackenzie, who is married to David — both of whom inherited her warmth, her love of people and talking, and her sense of humor. They were her heart walking around outside her body, and she never let them forget it. Dana was also the proud and doting Gramma to six grandchildren — Danielle, Kane, Olivia, Zachary, Benjamin, and Emelia — whom she loved ferociously and unconditionally. Spending time with her grandbabies was something she absolutely treasured — it didn’t matter what they were doing as long as they were together.

But Dana didn’t stop at family. She made friends absolutely everywhere she went. The grocery store, the doctor’s waiting room, a red light — if there was another human being within earshot, Dana considered them a potential lifelong friend. She possessed what can only be described as the Gift of Gab in its purest, most magnificent form. She could strike up a conversation with a stranger and somehow, twenty minutes later, know their children’s names, their life story, and their opinion on pie.

Speaking of relationships, her relationship with sweets was less a hobby and more a calling. Chocolate, cookies, cake, candy — Dana did not discriminate. She believed firmly that life was too short to skip dessert, a philosophy she modeled with great consistency and zero apology. If there was a birthday, a holiday, a Tuesday, or a mild excuse, there were sweets involved.

Dana was the daughter of Daniel and Frances Manuel (both deceased). In addition to Dennis, Dan and Tracy, Mackenzie and David, and her grandchildren, Dana is also survived by her brother Ronnie (Sandy); her sister Sharon (Tommy, deceased); her many nieces and nephews; her church family; and a remarkable number of friends, acquaintances, and warmly adopted strangers who are all a little better for having known her.

In lieu of flowers, the family kindly requests that you eat something sweet in her honor — and strike up a conversation with someone new.

Rest easy, sweet lady. Heaven’s a little louder and a lot sweeter today.