Some say the trajectory of one's life moves with the spirits who came before. Mary Bush, a descendent of a Cherokee woman who valiantly survived the Trail of Tears, endured maelstroms of sorrow over her 77 years, yet she continually pointed her resilient heart in the direction of others, finding comfort by helping those in need and enjoying adventures with her daughters, Elizabeth and Jennifer Bush, and cherished granddaughter Theodora.

This tender and thoughtful woman with Irish, Welsh, and Cherokee roots, spent her formative years in Chicago where her husband-to-be's family anointed her an honorary Hungarian. The architecture of Mary's face featured eyes that resembled the ocean at dusk, an indiscernible blue as mysterious as her inner world. Mary's cheerful countenance in the midst of unfathomable losses and devotion to serving those in need remained as steadfast as her love for family, dear friends, and all Chicago teams.

She started off her career as a nurse in Chicago, but found the most joy providing outreach and advocacy as an elementary school parent liaison/guidance counselor in Boynton Beach where she taught parenting classes and ran emotional support groups. Her beloved "Glasses Club" inspired children to see the world in all its many layers with newfound acuity. She also felt immense gratitude for the chance to help migrant worker families and single mothers in the community.

A devotee of chocolate with an affinity for wearing angel pins, Mary savored floating over the waves in the ocean, deeply appreciated everything about the movies, enjoyed concerts with her daughter Jenny, and always fell asleep with her glasses on and an open book over her heart. She never missed a chance to bask in the shade of a beloved tree outside of The Art Institute of Chicago, felt honored to run summer camps for children from the city's housing projects, and adored witnessing turtle hatchling releases along South Florida beaches. Mary saved every card her family members, friends, colleagues, and students ever sent and her own handwritten letters sounded more like free verse poems. Her words embraced the fortunate recipient as warmly as her legendary hugs. She insisted people called her when they arrived home safely and specialized in mixing sports terminology and creating celebrity name hybrids to the amusement of her family.

The guiding promise of nature provided a much-needed salve throughout the years for this golden-hearted, Delray Beach resident. Think of her when you press a leaf, ablaze with the turning of the seasons, into a book for someone dear. Remember her when you see the tendrils of a willow tree sway with a special kind of knowing. See her in a resplendent gathering of hydrangeas or catch the smell of gardenias on the wind.

She also had a way of delivering comforting talks, chock full of truisms as illuminative as the lighthouses that fascinated her curious mind. Her daughter Beth affectionately recalled one particular discussion they had about the multitude of boxes stacked in closets. As her daughter studied the teetering archives of sentimentality, Mary assuaged her fears about the fate of these heartfelt treasures.

"Most people do not physically catalog their remembrances so extensively," Mary said while the palms rustled outside the window in agreement.  "We've lost some of our most wondrous loves too suddenly. It's probably the reason we attach meaning to everything and hang on for dear life. You can't borrow into the future and worry about what will happen to the photographs or letters morphing into tissue-thin pieces of antiquity. People will either toss all of these boxes one day or end up alone in a house full of sentiment. I'd like to think we'll all be together eventually in the afterlife and it will not matter if anyone is here to preserve the memories. Those are coming with us and we'll be with all the people we're holding onto in this life again."

Mary passed away on August 10th after a six-year struggle with dementia. The family feels immense gratitude for the loving companions who helped her daughters care for their mother at home, in addition to the exceptional memory care professionals who sang sweetly to her during the later stages of her life. Her daughters will never forget the warmth the nurses and doctors surrounded Mary with during her final days.

Her dear ones find comfort knowing Mary is reunited with her beloved husband, Dr. Theodore Bush, and profoundly missed son, Teddy. The celebratory reunion of this kindred trio is a long-awaited denouement for this family's story.