Although I only knew Lori for two short years, far less than most anyone here I imagine, I can honestly tell you, those two years were filled with more joy, more happiness and more true love than either of us had ever known. Of this I’m sure, as we talked of it often, between ourselves and to others.

Despite the challenges we faced during those two years, and there were many, we faced each of them together and our love continued to grow, even to this day.

The words that you heard previously, those written by Lori herself, were posted April 25th on Lori’s website, where she had been selling some of the beautiful, handcrafted jewelry she had begun making last year in an attempt to deal with the loss of her precious “Lillybug”.

It’s the final few words she wrote that day, I believe, that are a true summation of who Lori really was. She wrote:

If you have lost someone tragically and you’d like to talk, I’m here. Just email me. You don’t have to buy something to talk to me. I hope in some small way, what I’ve written brings you some peace.

Once Lori had found her own healing from tragedy, her first thought was to help others.

Whether you knew her as Lori Thorn, or Lori Smith, or Fox, or Robbins or just plain Lori, she was always there for you, if you needed her, ready to help in any way she could. She would give you the shirt off her back and, most probably, matching shoes and a purse to go with it!

I first experienced Lori’s sense of thrift as we shopped for her ring, at a pawn shop, of course, as I would soon learn was typical Lori fashion. As I encouraged her to choose a larger, more expensive ring she gave me “that look” and stated emphatically, “No, I want this one!”

Lori took great pride in redecorating my small bachelor apartment and making it into a real home for us. Although it was small, that did not deter her decorating skills, for when she finished, she simply started over again where she had begun. I never quite knew where I might find the furniture when I arrived home each evening, what color our bedroom might be that day or what latest thrift store find I would soon discover.

As we planned our wedding, Lori had but two requirements; that she walk down the aisle in a beautiful white dress and there be lots of pictures taken.

We were finally married last May in a small chapel she found online, in Gatlinburg TN, on a weekday, of course, because she found a coupon for a discounted price on that day. The dress she wore was used, and her shoes had cost $4.

When recounting our wedding, however, it wasn’t the dress or pictures that she had enjoyed the most; it was the ducks and other wildlife that gathered outside our room, looking for a handout, whenever she opened the door to the small balcony. She, of course, brought back extra biscuits from breakfast, just for them, because she didn’t want them to be hungry.

Although Lori played many roles for many people in her life, it was the role of “Mamaw” to her beloved grandchildren that she cherished the most.

She loved them and her children, with all her heart, although she had moved away from them, not by choice at first and then only because she wanted to be with me, a decision she often struggled with. Her phone was always by her side, however, in case one of them might need her and she would answer immediately, no matter what she was doing, as soon as she knew it was one of them.

Many conversations I would have with Lori went unfinished, having been interrupted by the ‘beep’ of a text message that was more important to answer than anything I might have to say, and dinners sometimes ended up burnt as she wandered out of the kitchen engaged in a call. While sometimes frustrating to me, I could only smile, knowing it was simply Lori being “Mom” and that she would return to “Wife” as soon as she was done.

With our move to Blacklick, OH, just nine weeks ago, a new chapter in our life had begun. Lori’s depression had finally ended and the future was looking bright.

Lori loved our new home, the two cats we had adopted and she had numerous new thrift stores to explore. She insisted we have a least one guest room, if not two, hoping kids and grandkids would come visit often and she was already thinking of what Christmas would be like with all of them there.

Lori’s only new challenge, it seemed, would be filling up the sizable walk in closet in the hallway that we had designated as her “shoe closet”. To my surprise, as she unpacked box after box, filling the closet was no problem for her at all, in fact, she quickly informed me I would need to put up more shelves.

Lori had gone back to school and had just completed her certification as a Phlebotomy Technician. She planned to get a job at the hospital and then continue her studies to become a nurse, something she had always wanted to do. Lori was proud of her latest accomplishment, having scored a 99% on her final exam. Her certificate arrived in the mail last Wednesday. I had it in my hand to give to her as I went upstairs to tell her I was home.

Lori’s only desire in life had been to help others, as she often did. Rest assured that is still her desire. As we put her earthly body to rest today, know that the beautiful heart and soul that was the essence of Lori has not left us at all. She is still watching over us. Still there to help us when we need her, to lift us up when we are down and protect us from harm.

When you’re down, think of Lori and a smile will come to your face.
When you’re in need, think of Lori and you’ll still hear her reassuring voice.
When you’re hurting, think of Lori and you’ll feel her warm embrace.
Think of Lori and you’ll still feel her love. She is still with us, and always will be.

This world is a lesser place without our Lori, but we now know why the angels were singing that day, for they knew their Lori was coming home.

I love you, Lori.

I love you more.

I love you most.