I met her many years before I had the pleasure of working with her, through her sister, who was a co-worker of mine at the time. I was instantly drawn to her, and we became fast friends. Once during a weekend road trip to my hometown of New Orleans, she delighted me with stories of living in the French Quarter during her late teens and all of the hilarious adventures her and her best friend had during that time.  We chatted often about our favorite Cajun restaurants and sightseeing venues. 

Most people will remember her for her great kindness. She was slow to anger and quick to forgive. She once said that she didn't like to waste her time being angry and preferred to "hug it out" when she argued with a friend or loved one. 

Kindness was no disguise for weakness, she was sharp and emotionally tough. A wonderful thing about her was that she didn't have to be tough, because she was so kind that no one wanted to see that side of her.

After a day of working late we had dinner together and I asked her why she never had children, because had a very maternal nature.  She smiled and said, I have to look over nearly 2000 cab drivers, and all of you guys.  I don't have time for more children.   Perhaps the most endearing thing about her is that she meant it.

One morning she raced in to greet me so that she show me that she had bought "Voodoo" chips at a gas station. She was so excited to have that morsel of New Orleans to share, that I never told her that our local supermarket had started carrying them. We ate chips and told more stories about New Orleans.  No matter how much has happened since then, I want to remember that excited look on her face, not because she had some grubby potato chips, but because she had something to share, and that's how I will remember her for the rest of my life.