Like a true Newfoundlander, Debbie can drink anyone under the table. Like most of us, she loves a good bottle of rum and a nice glass of wine.
Debbie has raised four amazing, compassionate, successful sons and, like any true mother, would walk through fire for any one of them.
When my mom was sick, Debbie took my younger brother and I into her home as if we were her own. She plowed us with chips and Pepsi, like any good aunt.
She is a woman of faith who has overcome many obstacles in her lifetime; obstacles that would have broken others.
Debbie makes the best Newfoundland snowballs, and if you’ve ever been to her house, you know she’ll never let you leave hungry.
Aunt Deb, you are beautiful inside and out, and I am counting down the days until I get to sit in your backyard with you shooting Sour Puss next to the firepit.
late 14c., "death," from Middle French obit or directly from Latin obitus "death," noun use of past participle of obire "to die," literally "to go toward" (see obituary). In modern usage (since 1874) it is usually a clipped form of obituary, though it had the same meaning of "published death notice" 15c.-17c.
plural vitae, Latin, literally "life," from PIE root *gwei- "to live."
While recently watching Rex Murphy’s tribute to my late father, I was saddened that my father wasn’t able to hear Murphy’s wonderful words. I’ve decided to write pieces that are dedicated to telling the people in my life how great I think they are. I call them “Vituaries.”