What a blessing to have this remarkable life to celebrate! I know she will be missed dearly and I know there is a celebration in Heaven. Sending lots of hugs to you, Jeannine and Cheryl.

We think on how wonderful Cheryl and Jeannine and know that Loretta was had a huge, loving heart of compassion and mercy. I wish I had met her in person. We pray for your family and all of Loretta's loved ones. May the Lord comfort you with His everlasting peace and comfort.

Cheryl & Ni-Ni: So sorry for your loss.  Will be calling you both in a few days.  Much love, Holly Your Favorite Cousin

For one week or so, every Summer of my youth, despite the lack of checkmarks on her to-do list, my Aunt Loretta invited me to visit her family on the Southeastern coast of Texas.  In that hot, oppressive climate, my “Aunt Lolo” would brave the sweltering kitchen to stir the contents of a black cast-iron pot — contents she called “roux”.  My mother was surprised once when I returned to North Texas five pounds heavier.  I simply could not get enough of roux-based Cajun-inspired meals. I was only a kid, but I would come to understand that roux was a fragile thing; the process was a delicate one requiring patience, knowledge, concentration and expertise.  I have, maybe twice in my lifetime, produced roux the quality of Aunt Lolo’s but I would attribute that to serendipity.  My Aunt Lolo’s process of making roux was both an art and a science and if, about now, you are thinking to yourself that your roux is as good as hers… well, then, you’re just deluding yourself.   My Aunt Lolo did not take her recipe to the grave.  It lives on… in me, although what I possess is mere knowledge void of expertise.  The secret to my Aunt Lolo’s roux was that she browned the flour before adding oil.  She completed this task, well in advance, on cold Winter days and stored the pre-browned flour in her pantry.  When it was time to make roux, she expedited the process by using browned flour.  Brilliant!  I’ve never known anyone else to do this? I can remember spending a lot of time in my Aunt Lolo’s kitchen but she never made me feel like I was a pest.  The aroma was heavenly.  In her kitchen, I learned that some endeavors require effort because the desired outcome justifies a bit of bother.  She also taught me that you can simplify things by planning ahead. The time has come to say goodbye to my Aunt Lolo.  And her roux.  I have very fond memories of both.