I ‘formally’ met Irene when we were in High School. At that age, being in the same class for a specific subject, and this one was Language Arts, warranted the label for a ‘formal’ meeting of two people. I thought she was funny, as was a typical HS likable trait. She also knew, and was friends with many kids that were also friends of mine. And so it began.

Many years passed and I was talking with my parents, my mom told me that years prior when I was in elementary school she had a short chat with Irene at our neighborhood grocery store, Alpha Beta. We had lived very close to one another in a newer (at that time) part of Whittier, and running into people you knew from ‘the neighborhood’ was not uncommon. Mom said that while checking out in line, Irene came up to her and said “Are you Rudy’s mom?” After mom acknowledged that she was, Irene said to her “He’s cute!” I wasn’t told this until in my adulthood, and it was a wonderful surprise that makes me smile to this day.

Irene and I were married on November 13, 1989. We didn’t know what lay ahead of us, but we were both determined go-getters and knew our future would bring us just what we strived for. Early into our marriage and already into our careers, we found ourselves moving every few years. Both from Southern California, we then moved to Northern New Jersey for Irene’s job as she worked for Dow Jones and Company Inc., publishers of The Wall Street Journal. Irene worked directly across the street from the World Trade Center twin towers, and her career began to bloom.

Our next move was to Waco, Texas for my job, still as an Industrial Designer now designing the entire interior of multiple 747’s for the (then) richest man in the world, the Sultan of Brunei. Irene quit her lucrative job to provide opportunity for my career to grow. My next career move was to a software development company in Waltham Massachusetts. So we moved again and our time in the northeast was about three years before we were back in California for Irene’s job.

Irene continued to grow in her career, and the heights she wished to achieve, she did indeed. Her job responsibilities grew as well and through the years she became OUR bread winner. Her position in the working world afforded us financial flexibility and I changed careers to become a teacher. However, after many challenging years of her work travel, I convinced her to retire ‘early’ so that she could enjoy time ‘off’, as she certainly deserved it.

In her retirement years her individual personality characteristics blossomed. She enjoyed horseback riding, tennis, hiking, tent camping, home life and design, art, and our many canine kids. Everything Irene did was for me, our dogs, and our home. She took care of and managed everything, including our finances and bills. Finances, something of which I wanted no part of, and I was ever so grateful of that.

In late March, early April of this year she began having balance issues, stating that it felt to her like ‘she was on a boat and on water’. Her symptoms were out of the ordinary and together we sought to provide medical answers. It was only a matter of weeks and after first seeing a Medical doctor, then an Internal medicine doctor, and ultimately a Neurologist that we learned Irene could possibly have a very rare spontaneous degenerative neurological disease. A disease in which there is no treatment and no cure.

Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease, or more commonly known as Prion’s disease affects approximately only about 300 people a year in the US. The disease is a spontaneous mis-folding of the Prion protein within one’s brain. Once a Prion protein mis-folds other proteins follow suit in what is essentially an avalanche of abnormal protein development that directly affects the brain, and one’s lifespan is immediately cut short to only a few months.

In the days leading up to Irene’s death, and even before an actual diagnosis, Irene spoke stoically about typical things I needed to take care of around the house. She would ask me if I thought she made a difference in the lives of those she touched. In the middle of her words, she would stop and say ‘It’s OK, I’m OK, I’ll be OK.’ I had no idea what she was talking about and would always reassure her that everything would be ok.

A few days before entering the hospital Irene had a dream that she awoke from, with both giddy laughter and with tears. Details of her dream left her with a definitive realization. As she explained her dream to me she finally understood a much bigger picture in life and that what she had done mattered. With full self-acknowledgement she repeated with a giant smile and sobbing eyes, “I matter”, “I matter”.

In astonishing revelation, she knew before she knew.

Thank you to everyone who came today in the celebration of Irene’s life. While I miss Irene dearly, I am comforted with knowing that Irene truly did know her impact on the lives of others, and that she mattered.