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Though Mother spent most of her 82 years in Decatur, Georgia, she grew up in Trenton, Tennessee, with her brother and three sisters. A guard for the Peabody High Golden Tide, Mother apparently brought to the basketball court the same ferocity and passion she would later devote to nurturing her family. That family began in 1955 when she met and married William W. (Bill) Mays, the man she would love, labor beside, and rib relentlessly for over 59 years. Yet their first date was literally a gamble: Dad and his friends flipped a coin to determine which girl they would go out with. As far as we're all concerned, Dad won big.

After brief stints in Oklahoma and Tennessee, Mom and Dad settled in Decatur where, in 1958, they bought the brand new little house at Hollywood and Vine that, thanks to Mother, remains to this day a still, bright center, a beacon, a haven, and a landing place. Three years later they joined Scott Boulevard Baptist Church. In addition to raising four children -- mostly by herself in those early days when Dad's job required him to travel -- Mother worked for 21 years at Emory University Hospital, first in Data-processing, later in Dietary. A talented seamstress determined to do everything she could to help us both be and look our best, she made almost all of our clothes when we were little. She filled our home with books and encouraged us to love them, just as she did. She volunteered for every school fundraiser, made her famous fudge for every teacher every Christmas. She not only held our hands when we were sick or fell or failed, but also took in our friends whenever they needed a place to stay, a shoulder to cry on, a sympathetic ear. After she and Dad retired, they traveled the country by trailer as long as they could, visiting their far-flung children and, eventually, the five grandchildren whom Mother loved more than life itself.

If that's what Mother did, what she was is impossible to capture: She always loved what she called a "splash of color," and she also was one. It was a joy to make her laugh because she was so good at it. She was smart and funny, sharp-witted -- and sharp-tongued, too; tough as nails when she needed to be, in her own way utterly fearless, yet also the most gentle and generous of souls, endlessly empathetic, fiercely loving and protective, loyal to a fault, a democrat in the widest and best sense.

We will be forever grateful that Mother never forgot who we were and that even as conversation -- like everything else -- became more and more challenging, she was still ready with a "thumbs up" or "I love you." She never lost her incomparably beautiful smile, the twinkle in her eye, her belly laugh. Yet dementia made Mother's last years incredibly difficult for her and for us. We lost her by inches rather than all at once. In her name and in her spirit, we would like to do whatever we can to save others the same pain by supporting Alzheimer's and dementia research. Your donation would be a great help and a great tribute.