My sister-in-law was buried yesterday after a nine month battle with leukemia. My brother asked me to speak at the funeral. This is what I wrote.

It is said that when a parent dies, you lose your past; when a friend, sibling or spouse dies, you lose your present and when a child dies, you lose your future. With Peg’s passing we have lost our past, our present and our future.

Peggy received her diagnosis one month to the day after Dad passed. She knew from the start it was most likely just a matter of time and during the early days of her hospitalization, we had time to talk.

We talked about the difference in knowing your time is limited and sudden death. Of course, she hoped for as much time as possible. She wanted to see Mandy graduate. She knew to say what she needed to say. She talked with Dan and the girls. She planned final arrangements.

We have had our share of death and dying processes in the family and for each person, Peg was there to care for, comfort and support. When I wrote about Aunt Pearl’s dying, I wrote about Peg, calling her an angel, detailing her dedication.

Without any doubt, Peg was there for everyone else. She was a thoughtful, dedicated and generous daughter, sister, friend, wife and mother. She loved babies in the family and wanted to be a grandmother, but towards the end said that she was glad she had not become grandmother because it would have been too hard to leave those babies.

How many people do you know who have a lifelong best friend, a friend since first grade? How many people do you know who would start their day in the wee hours of the morning, making coffee and lunch for their spouse, go to work for a full day plus, then support the sick and dying, run errands with her mother and then go home to cook dinner, keep the house, and get ready for the next day?

If I said 1674 seven up cakes, you know exactly what that means. Peg was an instinctual cook. She loved watching the food network to get ideas. She cooked for her family and she cooked for others. I will keep a very sweet memory, just a few weeks ago, Peg was cooking for the week but also leading Dan through how to cook barbeque. She continued taking care of her family until the end, commenting on the cluttered kitchen table and stopping to straighten the kitchen rug on her way from the loveseat to the bathroom.

Until the end she thought of others. When Mandy told her who had visited while she was sleeping, Peg remarked, “They must think I am so rude.”

Peg was courageous and strong. For a wee thing, she fought harder and longer than most of us would. Her heart was so big. She loved her life and her family.

I will miss her laugh. Her delight. Repeating what she found funny and laughing again.

I will miss her sweetness. She was absolutely the sweetest member of the family.

Dan, Peggy loved you so much. While going through the boxes of cards Mom saved, I found a love letter Peg had written to Dan. When I returned it to her, she talked about all the cards and letters she wrote before you were married.

Mandy, Danielle, your Mom loved you, worried about you and was so proud of you. To say that we will miss Peggy does not begin to describe the depth of our loss.

There is nothing good about Peg’s illness and death. All the good was in Peggy. The good was in her life, and her loving us. We are saddened, devastated to lose a soul so sweet. We were blessed to have her with us.

Her grace, her faith and her love were great. May we carry her in our hearts and minds. Right now we feel diminished by her absence. May we in time feel how truly enriched we have all been by her presence in our lives. May we cherish our memories and realize what a blessing Peggy was to each of us and be thankful for the time we had with a soul so sweet, a heart so pure.