It's with great sadness to be standing here today. When I think about my mother-in-law, my strongest impression has been and always will be how much she loved life and that's what makes it that much harder to be here. Her love of life is hard to describe, you know it when you see it, and fortunately for all of us here we had that privilege.

She was enthusiastic about life. When she came across something fun to do, she'd excitedly share it with our family and ask if we wanted to do it together. She was always suggesting things to do as a family: Escape the Room games, a mixology class, going to baseball games because she got extra tickets. After Byron came home from Burning Man and showed us his pictures, she said it looked like such a good time and asked if she could go as well and if we (including the kids) would be willing to join her. (She had a serious case of FOMO, the fear of missing out.) A few years ago, she heard about camping at Lake Waramaug and suggested we do a family vacation there. We had a 4 year old and a 1.5 year old at the time. It was difficult enough taking care of them at home with every gadget within arms reach, let alone going on a camping trip. But, her enthusiasm made everyone enthusiastic about it. And, it turned out to be one of our most fun family vacations. It was going to be our annual tradition.

She had a way of amplifying joy through her enthusiasm and happy nature. Anything is more fun when someone else also thinks it's fun. And, she was always that "someone". She made me appreciate more whatever it was that I was doing because of that. When I'd send a picture of the kids playing together in the park to our group text, she'd be the first to respond with something like, "Lovely! So cute!" A picture of us at the beach, and she'd respond with, "Wow, so beautiful. Where is that?" Her ability to amplify joy was such an amazing quality, and I will dearly miss that about her.

Mom also had an adventurous "Just Do It" or "carpe diem" attitude and her version was asking "Why Not?" She made plans to go back to Taiwan a few years ago and suggested we come along. Again, we had every reason not to travel internationally with very young kids, not to mention taking a few weeks off from work. We told her it wasn't a good idea for us. She asked, "Why Not? I'll help with the kids, we'll all be jet-lagged together. It'll be fun!" We finally decided to go, and indeed she helped with the kids, we were all jet-lagged together, and it was so much fun because of her. She approached life with such a youthful sense of adventure and exploration that at times I felt like I was the "older" more "responsible" one. She had so much more life to live which is what makes this memorial that much more difficult to accept.

It's also heartbreaking for me to imagine my kids growing up without their Puo Puo. She loved them so much. When our first son Alex was born, I distinctly remember how being woken in the middle of the night by his stirring would frustrate me to no end. But, we were lucky enough to spend a lot of time with mom in those early months and so when I'd step into the living room trying to soothe Alex back to sleep, mom would hear his cries, spring up from sleeping and cheerily say, "Give him to me. No problem." For mom, it was never too late at night or early in the morning to be woken up to hold her grandchildren. And, the kids never outgrew snuggling with their Puo Puo. I remember Alex just this summer, groggy from waking up too early one morning, walk out of the bedroom, look around, see his Puo Puo lying down exercising, and simply lay down on top of her without saying a word as if she was just another cozy bed and fall back asleep. She didn't mind at all.

Through all of the sadness over the last few days - in thinking about a future without her and pained by the hole that she's left - what I hold onto is that her impact on my life, my family's lives, will be permanent. They say that when a person passes, you may forget their accomplishments but you will never forget how they made you feel, and she made me feel joyful - in the way she was excited by and celebrated small things in life, how she brought her happy nature with her everywhere, and the love she showed me, our family, and everyone in this room. I will miss her dearly.