Obituary for Lynda J. Osborne
Lynda Osborne -November 13, 1947 - May 19, 2021
My mother Lynda was the most loving, gentle, and kind woman I ever knew. She was the epitome of love and what it means to act in service to others. She was not a rich woman by any means. Yet she would give her last cent to help someone else if they said they needed it. My mother did not have an easy life, she was ill more than she was well. She faced countless ailments too numerous to name that would disappear and reappear as a constant in our lives. Even though those memories are difficult ones, there were also times of great joy. My mother had a wicked sense of humor, and you could always count on her to say something off the cuff at the most inopportune times sure to be followed by her signature cackle. That sound is a memory I cherish and will miss greatly.
She was a free spirit. A true child of the 60’s. She believed in peace and belonged to many organizations that promoted it. She was a spiritual woman who belonged to the Frederick Friends Meeting as well as the Episcopalian church. She loved to sing and would belt out the Sound of Music at the top of her lungs. She swore she was a mezzo soprano though my sister and I swear she was an alto (sorry mom). She loved to dance and would often wear her toe shoes around the house doing pirouettes and plies in the kitchen while listening to the Messiah or the Fantastics or the Nutcracker or whatever show tune she chose for that day.
Growing up, she made sure my sister and I would want for nothing. She worked two jobs to pay for the lessons we wanted and never complained about it once. We were her pride and joy. She would often call the school and say we were sick so we could stay home and have some crazy adventure with her. She always said the saddest day of her life was when my sister and I had to go to school because she lost her playmates. She loved to write letters. At least one a week starting when I was in college. She would send Christmas cards on Halloween and Easter cards for the 4th of July, and it always made me laugh. Years ago, I started saving every one of my mother’s letters. Some I have yet to open knowing that one day the letters would eventually stop.
This past year was the hardest on my mother. It was horrible watching her decline via zoom calls and not being able to comfort her. She spent an entire year without feeling the touch of her family. It was an awful truth that too many families had to face. I know my mother. She was a fighter. One of the strongest women I’ve known. She held on so she could be with her girls once again. In her last week, my sister and I did everything we could to break the rules. Just like my mom would have done. We had sleepovers in her hospice room even though visiting hours were over at eight. We sang the Sound of Music loudly and badly. We laughed. We cried. We touched. We loved. I placed my hand on moms’ heart as it beat its last beat. My sister and I held our mom and watched as her last breath left her. It was moms last and greatest gift to us. It was an honor to help my mother pass from this world to the next.
For those who fear what is to come after, I can tell you my mother was received by loved ones who applauded her for a job well done. She was here to see us girls into the world and we were there to help her leave it. Friends, this is not the end. Life goes on. Though we cannot physically see them or feel them, know that they are with you. I will look for you in the birds and the butterflies mom. We will see you again. Lynda is survived by her two daughters Tara and Noel. Their husbands Larry and Brian and her grandchildren Wren and Liam. She leaves behind a longtime companion Ben Swet and countless hearts whose lives will shine a little bit brighter for knowing her. The family asks that those wishing to honor her life give a donation in her name to St. Jude. Mom loved children and it was a charity she gave to often. For donations, please go to stjude.org/donate
My mother Lynda was the most loving, gentle, and kind woman I ever knew. She was the epitome of love and what it means to act in service to others. She was not a rich woman by any means. Yet she would give her last cent to help someone else if they said they needed it. My mother did not have an easy life, she was ill more than she was well. She faced countless ailments too numerous to name that would disappear and reappear as a constant in our lives. Even though those memories are difficult ones, there were also times of great joy. My mother had a wicked sense of humor, and you could always count on her to say something off the cuff at the most inopportune times sure to be followed by her signature cackle. That sound is a memory I cherish and will miss greatly.
She was a free spirit. A true child of the 60’s. She believed in peace and belonged to many organizations that promoted it. She was a spiritual woman who belonged to the Frederick Friends Meeting as well as the Episcopalian church. She loved to sing and would belt out the Sound of Music at the top of her lungs. She swore she was a mezzo soprano though my sister and I swear she was an alto (sorry mom). She loved to dance and would often wear her toe shoes around the house doing pirouettes and plies in the kitchen while listening to the Messiah or the Fantastics or the Nutcracker or whatever show tune she chose for that day.
Growing up, she made sure my sister and I would want for nothing. She worked two jobs to pay for the lessons we wanted and never complained about it once. We were her pride and joy. She would often call the school and say we were sick so we could stay home and have some crazy adventure with her. She always said the saddest day of her life was when my sister and I had to go to school because she lost her playmates. She loved to write letters. At least one a week starting when I was in college. She would send Christmas cards on Halloween and Easter cards for the 4th of July, and it always made me laugh. Years ago, I started saving every one of my mother’s letters. Some I have yet to open knowing that one day the letters would eventually stop.
This past year was the hardest on my mother. It was horrible watching her decline via zoom calls and not being able to comfort her. She spent an entire year without feeling the touch of her family. It was an awful truth that too many families had to face. I know my mother. She was a fighter. One of the strongest women I’ve known. She held on so she could be with her girls once again. In her last week, my sister and I did everything we could to break the rules. Just like my mom would have done. We had sleepovers in her hospice room even though visiting hours were over at eight. We sang the Sound of Music loudly and badly. We laughed. We cried. We touched. We loved. I placed my hand on moms’ heart as it beat its last beat. My sister and I held our mom and watched as her last breath left her. It was moms last and greatest gift to us. It was an honor to help my mother pass from this world to the next.
For those who fear what is to come after, I can tell you my mother was received by loved ones who applauded her for a job well done. She was here to see us girls into the world and we were there to help her leave it. Friends, this is not the end. Life goes on. Though we cannot physically see them or feel them, know that they are with you. I will look for you in the birds and the butterflies mom. We will see you again. Lynda is survived by her two daughters Tara and Noel. Their husbands Larry and Brian and her grandchildren Wren and Liam. She leaves behind a longtime companion Ben Swet and countless hearts whose lives will shine a little bit brighter for knowing her. The family asks that those wishing to honor her life give a donation in her name to St. Jude. Mom loved children and it was a charity she gave to often. For donations, please go to stjude.org/donate