A Tribute to My Mother – September 23, 2025

When I reflect on my mom, Anita Coleman, what rises to the surface above all else is love — unconditional, unwavering, pure love.

If you knew her, you knew that love wasn’t something she offered only on special occasions. It was who she was. It shone through in her voice, in the way she welcomed people into her home, and in how deeply she cared for everyone around her. That love extended far beyond our family. Everyone who entered her life felt it.

When I think about my mom’s purpose here on earth, the answer is beautifully simple: her purpose was to love.

Love for her family.
Love for God.
Love for life, and for every soul that crossed her path.

She was pure and uncomplicated in the best possible way. She didn’t measure success in possessions or accolades. What mattered to her were people, relationships, and moments. She lived for connection — and for her, family was everything.

As children, we saw her devotion every day. She turned our home into the heart of the family — a place where birthdays, holidays, pool parties, and spontaneous family “meetings” all happened. Her joy came from seeing everyone together, hearing the laughter, and knowing we were safe, happy, and close. She made togetherness feel effortless, and in doing so, created a legacy of unity that lives on in all of us.

Her life was so deeply intertwined with ours that she couldn’t separate her own well-being from ours. If one of us struggled, she struggled too. She worried often, but she didn’t just sit in that worry. She acted on it. She’d call, share her thoughts, and make sure the rest of us were looking out for one another.

Even as dementia began to take its toll, that instinct never faded. She still worried. She still asked about us. She still wanted to make sure we were all okay. It didn’t matter that her world was shifting — her instinct to care remained. That was who she was at her essence: a woman who cared fiercely and loved endlessly.

The Person Within Remains 

One of the most powerful lessons I’ve learned through both my professional experience and my journey with my mom is that a person with dementia is still the same person at their core. The essence of who they are does not disappear. Their values, their personality, their emotional truths, all of those remain, even as memory and expression begin to change. 

Understanding that is key to person-centered care. It allows us to look beyond the diagnosis and see the individual who is still present. When we take time to know what matters most to them, what brings them comfort, joy, or peace, we can connect in meaningful ways that feel familiar and safe. 

For my mom, family was everything. Even as her world shifted, that love never faded. Her worry for us, her instinct to care, and her deep desire to keep everyone close were not just symptoms or behaviors; they were reflections of who she had always been. 

Every person with dementia has their own story, their own priorities, their own inner light. When caregivers take the time to learn what those are, they create moments of recognition and connection that honor the person within. 

That is the true heart of dementia care, remembering that behind every symptom is someone still deeply themselves. 

Her Words, Her Heart

Carrying Her Legacy Forward 

The greatest gift my mom gave me was her heart — her way of loving, her way of caring. That gift has shaped not only how I live my life, but how I serve others. 

In my work, I have the privilege of walking with older adults and their families through some of the most vulnerable and tender chapters of life. And now, more than ever, I feel called to this work — not just as a professional, but as a daughter carrying her mother’s legacy. 

The energy I poured into caring for my mom in her final years will now be devoted to helping others on their journey — with the same compassion, patience, and love she taught me. 

My mission is to help families feel seen, supported, and not alone — just as I tried to do for her.  

To My Mom 

Mom, I love you. I miss you deeply. 

Your absence is felt every day, but so is your presence, in everything I do. 

Your voice lives in my head.
Your love lives in my heart.
Your legacy lives in my work, my relationships, and my family. 

And I promise to keep making you proud. 

Until we meet again. Love you forever and ever. 

— Your daughter 

A Note From Rhonda 

This story is shared in loving memory of my mom, Anita Coleman, whose strength, faith, and boundless love continue to guide my work at Person Centered Senior Solutions. 

Every day, I meet families who are walking the same path I once did — balancing love, caregiving, and loss. Through PCSS, I honor my mother’s legacy by helping others navigate that journey with compassion, dignity, and understanding. 

Because, as my mom taught me, “the heart always remembers.” 💜