In Memory of Mom by Roger Underwood, son

My Mother was born Nola May Cox on August 6, 1929 at Highlands Hospital in Oakland, California to William and Cleo Cox whom us kids knew as Granddaddy and Nannoo. Mom learned by their example about unconditional love for family and friends, about putting her needs behind those of loved ones, about God being her Savior. Those of you who know her sister Cleo and her character of a cousin Floyd Parsons whom we knew as "Uncle Buddy" can see where she got her wonderful sense of humor. While living in Twain Harte California, Mom graduated from Sonora High School in 1947. My father Clifford Underwood came home from his World War II tour of duty as a C47 and transport glider pilot in 1948 to work for his father Cecil Underwood building homes in Sonora California. Uncle Buddy also worked for Grandpa. Those of us who take after Uncle Buddy completely understand why Grandpa soon fired him, but not before he introduced his cousin Nola to my father. Dad knew immediately that he had met the love of his life and figured that he'd better propose to this beautiful Twain Harte teenager before any of the local cowboys got to her. She accepted her flyboy's proposal and their spirits were joined in marriage on June 26^th, 1949 at The Chapel in Twain Harte California. They moved to their first home on Gottingen Street in San Francisco California, a few doors down from their lifelong friends Joe and Lydia Vinal who are present today.

Their first three children were born here … Debbie, future self-proclaimed MBS which means Most Beautiful Sister, arrived on July 20 1952, Roger on September 30 1953, Barry on November 22 1954. They moved their new family to 1121 Emerson Street in Campbell when Dad was offered a position as a civil engineer for Mark Thomas Engineering in San Jose. In classic Catholic un-rhythmic fashion they produced 4 more children. These final 4 are still trying to measure up to the original three. Valerie MBS #2 on September 25 1956, Anne Marie, aka Mimi and MBS#3, on August 30 1959, David on April 12 1964, and Jenny MBS#"finally" on April 30 1970. Mom and Dad raised all of us through and beyond high school in this home on Emerson Street.

Even though there were seven of us Mom kept close tabs on each of us with some assistance from neighborhood moms Alice Bernardi and Phyllis Gaarder. What this meant is that we got away with absolutely n-o-t-h-i-n-g. Alice, who couldn't make it here today, and Phyllis, who passed away exactly one month ago today, were two of my mother's closest friends. That day Mom asked about Phyllis, Deb told her that she had gone ahead to get the coffee ready for you. Mom's response was "and hor d'ouvres?"

She believed in feeding her family healthy foods, sometimes to an extreme. Unfortunately she thought liver was healthy so she snuck little liver bits into her casseroles, we always found them. Green salad or vegetables would round out every dinner. She was famous for her granola-infested chocolate chip cookies, which her grandkids just had to get used to, period. Her More casserole which most of us still make today for our kids was named such because it has more stuff in it than you could identify. She convinced us that she placed each sweet pea inside each pitted olives one by one, I believe it. She could whoop up special desserts … birthday cakes shaped like ducks or Mickey Mouse, Lake Almanor award-winning fudge (the tiara looked perfect on her). She would write our home phone# in every one of our shirts, jackets, and sweaters. Mom called me one day in my 20's, asking me if I'd seen a certain jacket she'd given me in my teens. I had left it somewhere and whoever found it called the number on the label.

Mom loved and intimately knew each of us kids. She knew when we were sad even when we didn't say so, and with a few perfect words she would make it go away. When I first moved out I seemed to be having a tough time adjusting to life outside the home. She told me that no matter how bad it seems it's only temporary, that I just need to rise above the negative feelings, and that she is always with me in prayer no matter what I do. Her words have helped me so much over the years. She would regularly write letters to us and her grandkids and include a newspaper clipping or comic which she thought would lift our spirits.

Mom loved her children's spouses. She embraced each of them as if each were her own child. She thought of Gary, Bud, MaryPat, Carmen, Kevin, Jack, Lisa, and Bryan as cherished members of her family.

Mom loved her 17 grandkids. Debbie's son Gregory; Roger and MaryPat's children Nicholas, Caroline, and Nathan; Barry and Carmen's children Christopher and Erik; Valerie and Kevin's children Zachary and Riley; Mimi and Jack's children Audra, Elise, and David; David and Lisa's children Hunter, Justin, and Traynor; Jenny and Bryan's children Colton, Katy, and Ethan. She would shop all year for birthday and Christmas presents for her kids and grandkids, hiding them in closets with post-its identifying the recipients.

Mom loved being with her entire family. Christmas Eve at Mom and Dad's was always so chaotic. Grandkids running amuck, so much preparation, so many presents for everyone, but she absolutely loved it. Preparing Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner for her family with her daughters meant the world to her. 2 very special times for Mom were {1986} when Dad and her treated all 7 of us and their only grandson at the time Nicholas to a week at Napili Bay in Maui, and 1999 when we were all together in Twain Harte for their 50^th wedding anniversary.

Mom loved being with her and Dad's friends. They took so many trips with Jim and {Gerry} Evans, Joe and Lydia Vinal, Phyllis and Roger Gaarder, Leo and Alice Bernardi, all of Dad's friends from wherever he worked. Many of Dad and Mom's friends were pilots and they would plan flying trips to Montana, Utah, and Baja California. In recent years Mom and Dad also enjoyed many trips with their T-Bird club and great fellowship with their bible study group.

My Mother held my Father's hand in marriage for 54 years, nine months, and 11 days, their spirits will always be joined. My Mother is home now, waiting for all of us to join her someday.