If you capture a life in a eulogy or memorial service or blog post, what kind of superficial shitty life did they lead? It’s impossible for one with any sort of life that was rich and full, like lightly touching one dangling thread and saying you knew every feel of the fabric and every shape of the garment. In the beginning, there was Phyllis Ann Lacey, the eldest of four who lost her dad at an early age. She loved and lost, made and mended, danced and laughed, studied and sassed, listened to music and played music and sang music, and had the best childhood one could have in spite of circumstances and surroundings that were less than idyllic or ideal. Then, just under seven months before I came on the scene, there was Phyllis Ann Haight, a teen mom from St. Helen in a time and place where either was a challenge. A wife and mother, a friend and a traveler, continuing her education in school and in life, an inquisitive spirit searching for the next challenge and the next adventure, eve