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Jw!!7!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!M 7!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!~!!!!~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!h!!!h!!!`!!!`!!!!!!!!!!!!! !`o  ! 7`%YYJxhh@@hxxhhhhhh@xxhPPPHXX@  8X```xppph0 x ```` ````x`````x```````````````````````````````88````````0000``XXXX``@@@00000``"S^8J[ooJJJo~8J8>oooooooooo>>~~~c͡|JWơ||ҡJ>JhoJcococJoo>>o>ooooJW>oooock-kyJ8JJ%JJJHJJJJJJlJo>`````ƕ`````HJJ<>oooooơJJJ|WtT|W|WJJJoooooҡoc`NNd8eoJcooooo>EoLllloL(HccoJJoolll||JclL"S^8J|ooߺJJJo8J8>ooooooooooJJoϡWoҡ|ߡJ>JoJo|c|cJo|>J|>|o||cWJ|ooocX1XtJ8JJ%JJJHJJJJJJlJ|>lllllߡ`````TJJT>|||ooߡccc|WxT|W|WJJJ|||||ߡoc`NNx8xoJooooooCJoLllloL>HoooJJoolll||JolL2 6$ $#  &^1"^CYmYYYCYCJJJwYhYJY}YwwwYJJJYhJw5YCYY -YYYWYYYYYYYJttttttttttWHWHWHWHtwwwwwwwwwwYHYYYYhYJYYHJYYYhehhYYYwtN^dCyYwJS[[0Www YY Yw ["^CY YYYCYCJYYh YJYYwwYJYJwhYwi;iYCYY -YYYWYYYYYYYJ ttttteHeHeHeHwwwwwwwwhHhhYhYJYYeJ wwwhehhYYY wtN^xCYPX[[JW YY Y ["`H2 : ^oxDJooooWxx22xxJxxJ]JJxffJ8Vo]Mxxxxxx]x]x]x]x]xV];xff2oJJJWddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddNiiixxDDDJJxxWoo|iWJx"iiiii%i2iiiiiiiiiioiM]iiDiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiM2i(iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiixiiixiiiiiiiiiiiii22MixM2Mi22M2222x22222ooo2]x:b::NN&^^,"TT0J@hh^T:|vhhhll||||||||6| 17iC3,ƒXi\  P6XP 07nC3,4Xn4  pX A~P>,B-~\  P6P /AP>,U`4  p -oJ,%M& @P87P  .Y,%ʭ& @P87P ;rH8,jr\  P6P +;wH8,يw4  p GWC, \  P6 P ,GWC, 4  p  o,% s& @P87Px7'۴X,,xXbx7M,,xXp{7nX,,x2<6   #Xi\  P6ƒXP# # $#& @P87MP#Portrait of a Loving Ladyă  h #r\  P6jP#y%Pelagia Stachowiak Bakă  \:   January 30, 1899 March 6, 1994  If life were a canvas upon which my mother painted, her portrait would be a reflection of the warmth of her wondrous soul. The portrait of her life is neither dazzling nor monumental; hers is simple, loving and tender. In painting her life, Mom's palate was filled with warm, lifegiving colors; a spectrum of hues combined with her artistry to create beautiful relationships with her children, her husband, her grandchildren and her friends. Her devotion was to giving joy, caring, and unity to the family and friends she touched. As she painted the picture of her life, Mom's soft and delicate brushwork painted many colorful gardens. Her most beautiful garden was her relationship with her devoted husband, Stanley. Together they composed life's music, rich in harmony, flowing in melody, and vibrant with the rhythm and heartbeat of their love. For us as children, our loving parents set the most perfect example for growing up an example that both blessed us and nurtured us to give in like manner to others in our lives. No matter how stressful the times, no matter how difficult the economy, through recession and depression, Peggy was always painting a scene for nurturing the soul. After storms, she created rainbows; after fury, she made calm; from clutter she found simplicity. Her design for life was to softly create new possibilities for all those whose lives touched hers. In her portrait, Peggy's aura is vibrant, filled with the courage to remain positive when others were not, to envision a better world when others took second best, to bring joy when others despaired, to speak highly and gently, when others gossiped and condemned, to seek simple truths when others sought to falsely impress, and to be at peace with her world when others created turmoil in theirs. In the end, of course, there are no words and no pictures that can fully describe the real meaning of her life, its richness and beauty can only have been experienced to be appreciated. Mom's legacy will remain in the hearts of all those she touched and for the generations of her family thereafter. We will all love you forever, and miss you dearly. XX` ` X X"Xhh(X-Viola Bak Lynch