A Mother’s Day Letter to the One Who Chose Me

They say motherhood is about biology. But I know better. In 1996, someone walked into my life and quietly, without obligation, became the first woman to mother me with love, gentleness, and grace.

Audry — elegant, radiant, and full of joy. She loved Jesus, sparkles, animals, and people deeply.

Audry saw something in me — something I didn’t even see in myself. She called it out. She nurtured it. She celebrated me when no one else did. She gave me rhinestones and mentorship. Encouragement and earrings. And most of all…she gave me the feeling of being wanted, chosen, and safe.

Audry was a wife, a mother, a grandmother (Gigi) and a businesswoman. She traveled the world and filled her life with beautiful memories. She was a survivor — of both colon cancer and breast cancer.
We first met during her battle with colon cancer. I worked for her husband, Allan, as his assistant.

Allan would take her to doctor appointments and chemotherapy treatments, and afterward, I would meet him with a stack of folders, send him off to meetings, and hop into their car to drive Audry home. I would get her settled and stay with her until her housekeeper arrived. Audry was always so gracious, so thankful, even in the middle of her hardest days.

When you’re standing alongside someone who’s suffering, it can sometimes feel like you’re not doing enough. But looking back now, I know: driving her home wasn’t small at all. It was love. It sealed a bond between us that would last for the rest of her life.

Wherever Audry went, whomever she met, she shared her sparkle and her zest for life. Yes, she carried hardships. Several family members, including her daughter, preceded her in death. Audry mourned deeply, but always with grace — the kind of grace that only comes from knowing Jesus.

Audry was also a fighter. After surviving both colon and breast cancer, she faced another long battle when a serious back injury left her in chronic pain. For nearly a decade, she was physically limited from doing many of the things she loved. Yet even then, she never let bitterness take root.
She met every challenge with perseverance, grace, and an unshakable faith that only grew stronger through her suffering.

Audry was a devoted wife to Allan — supporting him through every season, just as he supported her.

They met on November 11, 1984, and married exactly six years later on November 11, 1990. They would often smile and tell people they had been together 40 years — and it was true. Married for 34 of them, yes, but their love story began long before the vows. The number of years they shared is a testimony to commitment, deep respect, and enduring love in a world that often forgets what those things mean. Together, they lived a life of generosity and service, helping countless people and quietly making a difference in ways only eternity will fully reveal.

Audry and Allan — partners in life, in love, and in quietly blessing others.

Audry’s life wasn’t just about what she accomplished; it was about how she loved. And she loved deeply, faithfully, and with her whole heart.

Audry passed away in August 2024, and this is my first Mother’s Day without her. I miss her deeply. But more than anything, I’m grateful — for the love she gave, the life she lived, and the way she chose me.

Our last celebration dinner together. The sparkle in her top was only matched by the joy in her heart.

Little Things I Remember About Audry

She was diagnosed with Celiac disease before I ever knew I was gluten-intolerant.
Every Christmas and birthday, I would bake her a loaf of my gluten-free Pumpkin Cherry Bread — although Audry insisted it was a cake! She loved it and would light up every time I brought it to her.
She was one of my biggest cheerleaders when I built my website and self-published my gluten-free cookbooks.
She believed in my dreams before I even knew if I could.
We loved to laugh — and oh, did we laugh often.
Audry had a fierce love for politics, which I absolutely did not share! She would talk to me about them anyway, smiling when I would say, “Audry, I don’t like politics!”
But funny enough, after she passed, I caught myself discussing politics with my husband one evening. I stopped mid-sentence, laughed, and said, “Oh my goodness, I’m talking politics. Audry would be so proud!”

She loved this country fiercely — and always dressed the part.

“Her children arise and call her blessed.”

— Proverbs 31:28

This is how I’ll always remember her — glowing with joy, full of sparkle, and ready to make someone smile.

It’s the little things — the laughter, the encouragement, the bread, the love — that stay with me most. This Mother’s Day, I honor her – not because she had to love me, but because she chose to. I am forever grateful for the mother she became to my soul.