"There are bad times, but thats okay, just look for the love in it, don't burn the day away."

I don't want to remember you like this, so I'm not going to.

Because you should be remembered as the free spirited, M&M-loving mom who loved Halloween so much that you couldn't wait until October, you had to dress us up and throw a party in August.

You should be remembered as the rebellious middle sibling who never believed in following all the rules, but still found a way to be respectful of other people and their values.

You should be remembered as the one who was notorious for singing "Happy Birthday" loudly and off-key; who waited until it was dark outside to take everyone skinny dipping. Your favorite outfit was always no outfit, and you never kept that a secret. Underwear? Totally overrated and rarely ever a necessity.

You should be remembered as the chaperone at my soccer tournament who tried to take the whole team to a rated R movie by claiming we were all your daughters. All 15 of us. In later years, you hosted co-Ed sleepover parties for a bunch of high school kids, and you actually trusted us. But you never did disappoint when given any opportunity to insert an inappropriate comment in any conversation.

You should be remembered as the fireball who wouldn't slow down or quit moving; who did weird exercises in public to "feel the burn." The spunky, outgoing kid at heart who would always be up for putting on a pair of rollerblades and hitting the streets of Park Forest with me. The speed demon who power walked through North Park at a pace few could keep up with.

You should be remembered as the fun-loving hippy who only smoked cigarettes and drank alcohol (soco and lime) on Tuesdays. The sugar addict who invented "vanilla milk," a concoction of warm milk, vanilla and sugar, and gave it to us before bed. The only person I know who would put Karo syrup on pancakes (the only thing you hated more than maple syrup was coconut.)

You should be remembered as the 50+ year old who showed up to a family wedding wearing a dress that exposed parts of you that you were proud to show off (much to the dismay of your children.) You should be remembered as the last person to leave the dance floor. And to some, you will always be remembered as "flapjacks."

You should be remembered as the klutz you've always proclaimed yourself to be, but never more graceful than on your slalom waterski, gliding across the lake. You loved it when it was smooth as glass. You were the "breast" water-skier.

You should be remembered as the best back tickler ever. The crazy mom who would throw marshmallows across the living room and try to land them in my mouth. The somewhat "ditzy" fool who wondered if a balloon would float up in the air if you put it over an open flame and then screamed when it popped.

You should be remembered as the former "painted lady" with ever changing hairstyles; from blonde to red and back to blonde, no matter what, you never thought it looked good...but no matter what, everyone else always thought you looked beautiful. You won queen of hearts in high school, and you vowed never to leave the house without doing your eyebrows. Even so, you have always been a natural beauty with more looks and charm than you ever gave yourself enough credit for.

You should be remembered (fondly, of course) as one of the cheapest people on the planet. Nearly everything you ever bought, you found a reason to return. You even thought at one point that the stores may have added you to a watch list and had become weary that you were shoplifting and not just indecisive.

You should be remembered as the loving mom who not only made it obvious every day how much you love and cherish your own children, but all those we've held near and dear over the years as well. One of my old friends said recently that one thing she'll always distinctly remember about you is that you genuinely enjoyed being around our friends and had their best interest at heart. But even when one of them got engaged, you held your ever-emotional self together because you had not applied water-proof mascara.

Sometimes, I wonder if you always had an idea that your time here with us would be limited. Maybe that's why you've always showered us with so much love and adored our friends and extended family the way you have; because they will be the people we will turn to and lean on for support and love when you are no longer here with us physically to provide those things.

Your body is still here with us, and through a tiny whisper you are still able to give us the "I love you"s that have supported us along the way and kept us going when we wanted to give up. But all those pieces of you that are already gone, I will miss forever.

You will be remembered as my mommy, my first and forever best friend, and my hero.

...And I'm serious about showing me signs with Paydays and M&Ms instead of feathers and pennies.