Mary Lizz Andrews

Lizz modeled diplomacy and cleverness to get what she wanted – utilizing her writing skills and persuasiveness. Even though I may not have appreciated Lizz’s guidance and role as Mom’s support at the time, when the Andrews family returned to PA and lived with Mom and Dad, I readily acknowledges that a lot of who she became professionally was influenced by Lizz.

Lizz was a Weirdo – the Queen of the Weirdos, Lizz was my Superhero, kind and compassionate, a spiritual advisor, I looked up to her, Lizz never lost her temper and was gifted and talented; I valued our daily morning devotionals shared the last couple of years.

Lizz was like the brother I never had. We could talk freely with no pressure or judging. I don’t think that we ever had an uncomfortable visit. Lizz and Bruce took care of Phyllis and me before and after our wedding. The only think that I can think of is that I thought I could help Bruce and Lizz with was salt. But after talking with both of them, they always had a saltshaker at our house for their use. Lizz told me at our 50th wedding anniversary celebration that she was ready to meet the Lord and is at peace. I told her I love her and always will. I told her it sounds like you’re ready, and I’m at peace with you that you are ready.

Lizz was “one of a kind”, full of love and compassion with a strong faith; not a complainer. Lizz helped me find the words during troubling times; I loved her unique personality; loved her smile, her laughter, her artistic and writing talents; we enjoyed a special bond.

Mary Elizabeth, Mary Beth, Lizz with 2 Z’s, Lizzie, Mary Lizz, Lizabeth, Lizbeth, Libby, Libbs, Lizbo, Aunt, Mom, and her ultimate favorite, well-loved name, MEME.
Whatever you may have called her, she was a multifaceted diamond.
Growing up with Lizz was special. She came into this world with a head full of hair that fell over her eyes. That hair was always amazing. When she was younger, she was all arms and legs, skinny, with thick beautiful dark hair, bright eyes and her infectious smile. Always a string bean with a smile and long skinny arms that could wrap you up and make you feel better. We all looked up to her, at six years younger, I was in awe of her.
Lizz acquired attributes from both of our parents. From Mom, the ability to laugh at herself and keep moving on, her artistic gifts, and a deep well of love. From Daddy, a delight in the unusual, quick wit, keen communication skills, diplomacy and humbleness. From both of them, a deep love of family, love of others, a strong faith, playful sense of humor, and acceptance of the underdog, or as dad would say, the unaccepted or under-appreciated.
Lizz was many things to many people but for her siblings she was someone you could count on, to look up to and confide in, counsel with and share many, many laughs, especially about ourselves. She did enjoy the quirky side of life. She had an easy way about her and led our crazy cluster of Kuhn kids through all kinds of adventures. Lizz had a quiet confidence and innate authority that was grounding to her siblings. As the oldest child of Paul and Mary, she was their lead helper but never a taskmaster. That calm confident demeaner coupled with her strong faith carried her into adulthood and has been a blessing to countless souls.
Proverbs 3: 13-18 is reflective of this. Blessed are those who find wisdom, those who gain understanding. For she is more profitable than silver and yields better returns than gold. She is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her. Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor. Her ways are pleasant ways, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to those who take hold of her; those who hold her fast will be blessed.
For me, Lizz was Lizz. My wonderful big sis, whom I adored and appreciated beyond words. We shared the fear of clothing entrapment and laughed at our troubling situations. We enjoyed the arts – culinary and otherwise. We loved to make each other laugh. It was always fun to be with Lizz. When we both lived in Texas, Lizz was also the one I turned to when my young heart was broken over 43 years ago. I would drive from Houston to Hempstead, put in a Ricky Scaggs cassette tape and cry all the way to her. For 6-7 weeks, this journey was repeated. I would ring the doorbell; Lizz would open the door and wrap me up in her arms. She didn’t try to fix things, but accepted me as I was - week after week after week. Never saying “enough of this, get on with it”, and the like. She was my rock with those loving arms, my comfort, my grounding. Surprisingly, I felt those arms around me in NH just days before she left us, those warm embraces from 43 years ago that wrapped me up and supported me in gentle love, I felt from afar, once again.
One of her special gifts was to sense a need and act on it. She took Verna in after her military service, she gave me a quick jump start after college, then gave residence to a college friend of mine. After that friend overstayed his welcome, she didn’t want to strongarm him to leave the nest, so she called me to say that David was becoming a little too comfortable. She didn’t want to kick him out but she knew who to call to take care of it. Lizz and Bruce also opened their home to their Texas babysitter Anna, who lost her mother in her junior year, providing her a loving home and stability to see her through high school. Lizz mentored and encouraged others personally and professionally all her life.
When I think of Lizz, her outstretched arms come to mind, reminiscent of Mathew 19:14 “Jesus said, Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Her arms were open and available to all.
There are many of us here today celebrating and remembering Lizz as a sister, wife, mother, aunt, grandmother, cousin, or friend. We all have a story or multiple stories that could be shared. She had a way with her look, those lips, her eyes, that smile. So many of us feel that we had a “special connection” with Lizz. And so, we did, we all did, so get in line. We remember Lizz’s many gifts, her joy, her faith, her playfulness, love and generosity. Her words that linger with you like “enjoy and feel blessings in the little things in life” or “find something little that is beautiful and there your blessings will begin.” She has sown many seeds and from those seeds’ blessings abound.
Her ever-expanding family was a wellspring of joy and contentment. With Bruce, her boys (the Killer Bs), then her daughter-in-love and the abundance of extremely loved grandchildren. Her heart was filled with love and joy.
Lizz was comforted with the knowledge that when her time came, she would be in the presence of the Lord, Mom and Dad, and all the family and loved ones who went before.
Thank you, Lizz, for your life well lived and for the impact and legacy of love and service to others.
Love you Bitte!

For years, we all knew Mom had a secret. And today, I’m here to reveal it; She had a favorite. Growing up, she would take each of us aside and tell us we were her favorite, on the condition that we didn’t tell the others. As we got older, the competition only intensified, from counting whose photos dominated her living room, to getting a ‘Mom’ tattoo. And eventually some resorted to wearing T-Shirts indicating who the favorite was, a desperate move no doubt. Ben might say she stopped having kids out of fear of what she’d get next. I’d say she stopped when she got it right. Either way, I’m the one standing here with the mic, so I think we all know who the favorite really is.
Of course, being her favorite wasn’t easy, it meant enduring the chaos of growing up with three other boys who were constantly pushing the limits of what Mom could handle. But somehow, through all our antics Mom managed to raise four boys to adulthood, at least physically. She survived four boys worth of injuries, shenanigans, and, let’s be honest, a whole lot of bad decisions.
Forty-eight stitches, 1 Broken arm, jumping on the trampoline with a steak knife, 3 skin graphs, and several burned carpets; and that’s just talking about Ben. When Bruno got bitten by a copperhead, she sent him to bed; because it was just one fang. He was fine after a week in the hospital. She accidentally locked me out of the house one night when I was about 5, I punched through the window to get in. She told me once she had to exorcise a daemon out of Brandon. To this day, I’m still not sure if she was kidding. But it turns out, she didn’t just survive us – she raised us.
Now, as a parent myself, I wonder how she did it. How she handled raising four boys, juggling everything with grace, and still managed to stay joyful, faithful, and give thanks in all circumstances. Mom’s strength came from her faith. First Thessalonians 5:16-18 says “Rejoice at all times. Pray without ceasing. Give thanks in every circumstance. If you know Mom, you knew she lived this.
Mom rejoiced in every aspect of life, embracing the quirky and the curious. She collected everything from rocks to mummified cats, alligator heads, and – brace yourself - even foreskins. Yep, you heard me right.
She played games with us constantly. Small games, like moving our dinner plates if we stepped away, correcting our grammar with the “Grammatical goof game”, or ditching me in Walmart to call me on the loudspeaker, “would little Blakey Andrews please meet his mommy at the front.” I was 15 at the time….
Mom's joy made it easy to be around her. Loved by all her son’s friends (often calling her mom as well), the kids at church, even her students. All of which would stop by the house, unannounced, for a visit with her. Although I suspect one youth group girl had ulterior motives.
Mom prayed without ceasing. She often told me that from the day we were born, she prayed for the women we would marry. I’m not sure if she was praying for them or about them, but we all managed to marry women far too good for us and have kids much better than we deserve.
Mom prayed about everything, from cowboy boots to cars. No request was too big or too small. And time and again, she showed us how God provided. As a young boy, I wanted cowboy boots she couldn’t afford, so she prayed for them. That very day a church acquaintance gave her a pair of kids cowboy boots. I guess given the number of pictures of me wearing only those boots, she should have prayed for clothes too!
She prayed for groceries, diapers, new bras, even working cars and the occasional miracle. God provided them all. Years ago, I watched her pray a teenage girl back to life as she laid motionless in the street, struck by a car.
Mom gave thanks in every circumstance. When I destroyed second gear on her 79 Saab because I didn’t depress the clutch far enough, she didn’t get mad. When she forgot her luggage during a family trip to Sandy Cove, she didn’t fuss, or complain, not even when the cabin had no power. When a copperhead snake popped out from under our back porch, Bruno went flying, Mom stayed calm. She chopped its head off with a shovel, then let me take it’s body to school for show and tell. During the 2 years I drove her to work, and picked her up after school, she rocked out to my music, sang along, and smiled the whole time.
I could not possibly describe all the ways my mother touched the lives of everyone she met. But I can tell you this, Mom taught us all how to live fully – to rejoice, pray, and give thanks, no matter what life threw at us. She was our mom, our Meme, our teacher, and our friend. And although she may have called each of us her favorite, we know now, without a doubt, that she was ours.