A couple of weeks ago, my dad, sisters and I were asked about Mom's occupation; we all paused and looked at each other, no one saying anything. Mom was so much more than her job, and her profession varied across her adult life. After all, how do you sum up someone, their impact, their time, in a single word. Mom was a journalist, mother, librarian, world traveler, and "CFO" of Novel Ag. She was our guiding light, our north star. Our family's keeper.

Mom was a remarkable person inside and out. She was witty, clever and eternally thoughtful. From her, my sisters and I derived many things: a lot of our looks, love of books, dislike of math (okay that one is really just Taylor), an appreciation for good food, and our deep, soul-felt desire to travel.

She was born Janis Lee Joseph on October 12, 1966, the second of three daughters. From the beginning, she was independent and unafraid to go her own way. When asked what their middle daughter was like as a child, her mom, Vicki Joseph, had this memory come to mind, "When your mom was little, we used to drive past this farm store that had a bike in the window. Your mom would see it as we drove by. It was a little two wheeled bicycle with training wheels. She really wanted it. We brought it home for her for her fourth or fifth birthday. She rode it one time with the training wheels on then demanded that Dad take the training wheels off. She pushed herself along the curb and taught herself to ride a two wheeled bike. She was always a determined, independent person. A pistol on a bicycle."

Her dad, David Joseph, recalled a memory of Mom a little later in life. "Your mom wanted to go backpacking across Europe. She was probably a sophomore in college, about 20 years old. She needed money to do that, and we needed our house painted. So we struck a deal: I don't remember the exact number but we (her parents) would pay her several thousand in exchange for painting the house. She didn't have any experience but she accepted the offer. I believe it was late spring when we made this deal. Summer arrives and she's not doing anything with respect to painting the house, no prep work, no masking off the windows. I asked her when she was going to start and she got defensive, "don't bug me, I'll get it done". Summer comes and goes and she still hasn't painted the house. I believe it was over Labor Day weekend, her mom and I took off for a three day weekend and when we came home, the house was fully painted. No mess, no evidence. Even the south end of the house, which was three stories up, all painted! Where she got the spray gun, I have no idea. Anyway, it was all done. We quizzed her about the job and received no answers. But we paid her and everyone was happy. Years later we had a professional house painter come out to give us a quote and he asked us who last painted the house. We told him our daughter did, and he commented what an excellent job she did, especially masking off the windows. We never did learn just how she pulled all that off."

Her older sister Michelle recalled this classic story when asked about growing up with Mom: "Janis was a daredevil and, one summer day, talked me into riding our bikes down the hill in Dundee without brakes. (Why no brakes, I have no idea. But she talked me into it and that's what we did). We crashed into each other by a filbert orchard (they weren't hazelnuts yet) and she was knocked out cold - we were both bloody. I remember being scared but she came-to and a nice couple driving by took us home and bandaged us up. No one was home (our parents were probably at work and Traci was probably at a friend's house or day care) but we took care of each other."

Mom's younger sister Traci had this favorite recollection of her sister, "Janis was always pushing me to try new things, to be brave. I think when this moment occurred I was 13 or 14, and she was 4 years and 2 months older than me, so she was 17 or 18 at the time. We went somewhere together and we were driving back when all the sudden she pulled over at the Dundee school. The school resided at the bottom of the hill from Mom and Dad's house. Janis turned, looked at me and said, "you know, I think it's time you learn how to drive" then she made me trade seats with her. We had this little Honda that was a stick shift; I drove that car all the way up the hill in first gear."

Dad first met Mom during the rodeo in 1988. They were introduced thanks to Mom's childhood friend, Tracy, who is also Dad's cousin. Mom and Tracy went to Dad's house that fated day in search of a safety pin to fix Mom's broken zipper. Dad was the only one home. Dad gave her the safety pin in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. Recently Dad reminisced, "I just thought she was cute!". Mom recorded the story in their wedding album, and mentions that all she had to say once she and Tracy got back into the car was, "Who's the cousin?".

Less than two years later, they were married.

Mom had an incredibly busy year in 1990. In January, her and Da
d got engaged. By March, she graduated from the University of Oregon with her Bachelor of Arts in Journalism. On June 30th, 1990, she and Dad were married. At the time of their wedding, Mom worked at the Newberg Graphic and she wrote the article announcing their marriage. She wrote:

The whole thing is kind of a blur in my mind. I said my, "I have, I will, I will," and Tom said his, there were a few songs, a kiss – and it was over!
But really, I was just happy I didn't start crying. Before the wedding, everyone told me horror stories of hysterical brides sobbing through the entire wedding.
But I was o.k., at least until the ceremony was over. Tom and I were standing outside the church greeting people, and I was thinking, "I'm married. I can't believe I'm married!" While I was thinking this,
Tom's Mom came up to me, gave me a big hug and said, "Welcome to the family."
I completely lost it, and burst into tears – which took me at least 20 minutes and an entire box of Kleenex to dry.

During their 36 years together, Mom and Dad set a beautiful example of what a loving marriage looks like. Our home was never short on laughter. They supported each other's various endeavors and passions, as well as those of their kids. When we were in school and needed homework help, Mom was always there to help with anything literature related and Dad with math or science questions. They both attended nearly every ball game, track meet, awards ceremony, FFA or FBLA function. They loved celebrating each other, and their kids, from the smallest awards to our weddings. Mom was radiant, with beauty and joy, at her elder two daughters' weddings and was over the moon when her youngest announced her engagement and picked this coming November to tie the knot. Both Mom and Dad were incredibly supportive and loving, both as parents and as partners.

Mom first became known by the title of "Mom" in 1993, with the birth of her eldest daughter, Taylor. Samantha was welcomed into the family 1995 and Sydney in 1998. She gave us girls everything. Now, being a mother of two young toddlers myself, I see just how much she gave to us. Motherhood demands everything from you and it was rare that Mom ever reacted with anything other than kindness or patience with us - even when we would act out, or were just generally ridiculous (as young kids can be). For instance, Mom had to put up with a lot of whining when she "dragged" us out on hikes as kids. She wanted us to experience the beauty of our world and we were pretty sure we were being punished for no explicable reason. Now, all three of us are avid hikers who deeply treasure those memories.

Mom was promoted to "Grandma" in December 2020, again in September 2022 and was due to be promoted once more come the end of November. Being a grandmother was very visibly something she truly treasured. She was an involved, loving grandma; always enthusiastically playing "puppy party" with Fritz using toys she saved from our girlhood, frequently popping Fritz up on the kitchen counter to make toast, playing baby dolls with Teddy, meeting us for park dates when the weather turned nice, and reading the kids countless stories before bed. Her grandkids only knew her briefly but her impact will be lifelong.

A core part of Mom's being was travel. One of her first big trips was when she took off on a backpacking trip around Europe while in college, taking a semester off to do so. Her and Dad managed to pack in quite a few adventures together; a honeymoon in Hawaii, trips to Mexico before they had kids, canoeing through alligators, road trips to visit Sydney when she lived in Utah, countless visits to countless National Parks, bear spotting in Alaska, a few beloved weeks in Vietnam, a work trip to China, trips to Spain when both their elder daughters were studying abroad there, and visits to NYC with the last being in 2018. There, they caught Hamilton on Broadway; Mom loved it so much she took us girls to see the musical in San Francisco. That was our first big girls trip like that, with all three of us being adults. We will cherish that trip forever. I know there are other trips I am missing, there simply isn't the space to put them all to paper. Mom was always ready to travel. We adored that about her.

It wasn't uncommon to find Mom nestled up on the couch or a chair, nose in a book. More than once, Dad would come inside to one of us girls sitting in the kitchen. We'd talk for a bit and he would inevitably ask, "where's your mom?". We'd point to the couch where you could just see the top of her head, absorbed in her latest read. Dad would laugh, "oh! She's being so quiet I didn't even realize she was there!". There was no genre she wouldn't read. Nonfiction, literary fiction, memoir, mystery, sci-fi, fantasy; she loved them all. It was truly a delight, swapping book recommendations and having discussions about recent reads with her.

One comment we always get about Mom is how wonderful her cooking was. A time or two she remarked that she would just as soon eat at home than go out to dinner, because she could cook better than a restaurant; this wasn't a brag but was very often the case. When I was in high school, we started doing pizza nights on Fridays, as is common in a lot of households. But for Mom, this meant pizza fully from scratch, including dough she made herself. She made the best chocolate cake with vanilla buttercream frosting. Picking our birthday dinners was always a fun challenge because everything she made was good. For example, once while in high school, Sydney came home late due to ball practice, and she grew quite distraught when she thought no one had left her any brussel sprouts.

Losing Mom hurts more deeply than can be properly put into words. For us girls, she was just that person that we turned to, for whatever reason. Need advice over a big, existential life question? Talk to Mom. Not sure what to make for dinner? Pick Mom's brain, she always has ideas. Need a good show or book rec? Mom has one or two, or five. Excited about something, no matter how small and just want someone to be excited with you? Call Mom up, she'll celebrate with you. She was always there for us, through it all. I hate that I will never again say "hi Mom" as her grandkids and I roll into her kitchen for a visit, that I can't ask her for her opinion on things anymore, that we'll never again excitedly chat about a book or travel plans.

There are far too many milestones she will miss, too many passport pages unstamped, books unread, recipes untried. But she accomplished so much with the time she had. She never stopped adventuring, dreaming, or reading. I think myself, my sisters and our Dad will see Mom everywhere and in everything we do for the rest of our lives. How lucky are we that we have someone so beautiful, so wonderful to miss.