Eulogy Part 3: 

Every one of us probably has our own "pie story." Maybe it wasn't actually a pie. Maybe it was a favorite meal, thoughtful advice, a listening ear, words of encouragement, or simply knowing that Grandma's door and heart were always open. She had an incredible way of making each of us feel like we mattered.

As I've reflected this week, I've realized something.

The greatest measure of a person's life isn't found in awards, accomplishments, or possessions. It's found in the lives they touch and how you make others feel.

Grandma's kindness lives on in her children. It lives on in her grandchildren. It lives on in her great-grandchildren. It lives on in the countless friends and family members whose lives she made better simply by being part of them.

Her great grand children, may be too young to remember much about their great-grandma, but they will still know her. They will know her because they know all of us. Every time we choose patience over frustration, every time we give someone the benefit of the doubt, every time we offer kindness instead of judgment, every time we make someone feel welcomed, understood, and loved, a part of Grandma lives on. That's how a life like Grandma's continues—not only in our memories, but in the way we choose to live because of her.

I feel incredibly blessed to have had a grandma who helped shape the person I am today. I know I'm not the only one who feels that way.

Grandma, thank you for every breakfast, every boat lunch, every pie, every conversation, every word of encouragement, every laugh, every hug, and every act of love that often went unnoticed at the time but means everything to us now.

You showed us what a life of kindness looks like.

We will miss you more than words can express, but we promise to carry your love forward.

We love you, Grandma. Thank you for everything.

Eulogy Part 2: 

And then there was Grandma's famous inability to throw anything away.

She kept everything. And I mean everything. Every greeting card. Old makeup. Tubes of toothpaste. Medicine that had expired eight years earlier. If something had sentimental value—or maybe even if it didn't—Grandma found a place for it. Looking back, it's something we laugh about now because it was so perfectly her.

One of Taylor's favorite memories was when Grandma and Grandpa got the golf cart at the lake. We started calling her "Grandma Mario" because every single time we'd ride, her hat would go flying off. It became one of those family jokes that never got old and still makes us smile today.

One of my favorite memories is something that probably seems small to everyone else but meant the world to me.

As a child, I fell in love with Grandma's lemon meringue pie. Every Thanksgiving and every birthday, she made one just for me. One year after my birthday, my parents unexpectedly had friends over, and the only dessert they had to offer was the rest of my birthday pie. When I came home later that night, it was all gone.

When Grandma found out, she didn't hesitate. She simply made me another pie.

That was Grandma.

She noticed the little things. She paid attention. She quietly took care of people without ever expecting anything in return. It wasn't about the pie. It was about making someone she loved feel special.
And when I think about it, that's exactly how she lived her entire life.

Grandma's Eulogy Part 1: 

It's impossible to sum up the life of someone who meant so much to so many people. But if there is one thing I hope everyone leaves here remembering, it's this:
Grandma lived a life of quiet love.

She wasn't someone who needed recognition or attention. She simply loved people. She was kind. She was selfless. She was gentle. She always saw the good in others, and she had a way of making everyone feel welcomed, understood, and accepted. Those qualities weren't just things she said—they were who she was every single day.

As grandchildren, so many of our favorite memories revolve around one special place—the lake.

Grandma had a way of making every trip there feel magical. She always made our favorite breakfasts before we'd head out for the day, and somehow the lunches she packed for the boat always tasted better because we knew she had made them with love. Looking back, I realize it wasn't really about the food. It was about how she made us feel. She had an incredible gift for turning ordinary moments into lifelong memories.

Katie remembers staying up late with Grandma to watch figure skating together. More recently, when Katie's daughter Ellie started ballet, Grandma was absolutely thrilled. She celebrated the things that mattered to us, no matter how big or small, because they mattered to the people she loved.

Connor remembers skipping rocks with Grandma at the lake. That memory may have seemed ordinary then, but it’s one of the many moments we would all give anything to have back today.

Corey remembers Grandma supervising him, Taylor, and Connor while they cleaned their rooms. She would make sure every shirt was folded and put into their dressers. Rumor has it Taylor's room always needed the most work—but I think we'll let that remain a family mystery.

OBITUARY

Jacqueline R. Budziejko

March 22, 1937 – July 15, 2026

Danzer, Dengler & Roberts Funeral Home

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