Hello, faithful followers of Hope's story. It's Lilah again, Hope's middle daughter.

I write with the unfortunate news of Hope's passing on the morning of Sunday, March 10, 2024. The nurse gave her a couple of hours left, and in true Hope fashion, she took her last breath forty-eight hours later. My father fell asleep next to her bed the night before, and when she passed he woke us all up to tell us she was gone and to say our goodbyes. All of her kids, as well as Bella's fiancé and of course Ms. Brenda (Hope's mother, aka Nana), stood on the porch as the body donation center picked her up to take her to UCSD, where my mother asked to be donated. It is a dichotomy to feel both devastated and relieved at such an event. My mother, and an irreplaceable member of our family is gone, but her suffering and pain has finally ended. 

Before my mom's mental state dwindled, I asked her what she wanted me to include in the blog post I promised to write after she passed. I gained a lot of insight and wisdom from our conversation. 

Firstly, and without hesitation, she told me she didn't want it to be about "Hope Ettore superstar". This did not surprise me in the slightest, as my mother was always a deflector of attention. Unfortunately for her, she was inspiring regardless of her intent. With such power, however, came the pressure to inspire with each word she wrote, and she expressed that eventually she felt like she should only write when she had something to say. She also felt that some of her entries became primarily informational, and that it was the job of the reader to process and interpret the information as they wanted to. 

Something I responded with was that she was inspiring people simply by existing. Her continuous fight and will to not give up was what people have been in awe of. Of course, she was skeptical of this, and still felt she didn't fulfill everything she could have with an "opportunity" such as the experience of dying of cancer. How wrong she was. 

When I asked about her life, she said she was swaying between feeling robbed of the life she was supposed to have, and so grateful for the life she did have; her children, her husband, her home. She LOVED her job, and said it was exactly what she had been working toward. She didn't anticipate living as long as she did, and the gratefulness of that was something not taken for granted by her or anyone else. 

I'd like to keep rambling about her accomplishments and all she did to inspire, but she also wanted me to write about how we all have been affected by her death. As you can imagine, there is a massive hole in our hearts and in our home. As is typical, everyone is grieving differently; some have thrown themselves into projects or distractions, others are more forward about their feelings, but we are all heartbroken. My mother was a rare, incredible human being, and her loss is felt deeply within us all. There are many lessons and values to take forward out of this tragedy, but for now at least, we are grieving the loss of such an important part of us. We vehemently want to keep her memory alive. My mom's journey may have ended, but her legacy lives through us. Her mother said, "Longevity continues through her children," which is an idea I am choosing to live by. Much of myself is built from her, and that is not to be overlooked. 

Thank you for praying for Hope while she was fighting, and continuing to pray for my family. And to those who have donated in the form of food/ UBEReats credits, THANK YOU. We are so grateful for the outpouring of love and support. 

We will be celebrating Hope's life on Saturday, April 6 at 10 am at Living Way church in Poway, California (13609 Twin Peaks Rd. Poway, CA 92064). We hope you will join us. 

As always, 

Planning for Longevity