Yadah is an unusual name. The minister who gave her memorial service pointed that out. In Hebrew it means to utter, or speak, as in praising the Lord. She was married for a decade to the love of her life before he died of cancer, but she was still very much married for the fifty years they were apart.

Yadah carried white gladioli in my mother's wedding, wearing an off the shoulder ruffled dress that was fashionable in the forties.  I don't know if my mother was in her wedding, but their friendship continued for a lifetime.

People spoke about the losses that pierced her time on earth. The death of her sister was painful. Her husband's cancer was tragic, which led to Yadah going back to school to become a librarian so she could support their children. She was in a terrible car accident, caused by a drunk driver, which led to months in the hospital and several surgeries. Her childhood was clouded by the depression and her father leaving the ministry to find a job that could support his large family. Finally she grieved the losses that are too familiar in old age. She felt useless, tired, and lonely much of the time. 

But her life also had an abundance of joy. Her children, her brothers and sisters, her grandchildren were the jewels of her heart, and she treasured them. The church was dear to her as well, and she loved diving into discussions about doctrine. 

Many of the comments at the reception after the service focused on the joy of her reunion with her husband. Half a century is a long time to wait, but then again stacked up against eternity it is barely a blink.