Lori was born in 1956 and was the eldest of three children. She was valiant, she was brave, she was courageous. She loved life. From an early age, Lori was involved in some kind of sport. Whether it was cross country skiing, road biking ridiculously long distances or her women’s soccer league. She was also very smart. As a CPA she was meticulous, attention detailed, and to her detriment at times, a perfectionist. She took pride in everything she did. But the thing she was most proud of was her family. Family was the most important thing in her life. She never missed a soccer game, a track meet, a horseback riding lesson or bake sale. Moments spent surrounded by people she loved - her husband, her daughters, her sisters, her parents, nieces, nephews, she was her happiest.
When the wrath of AML descended on Lori and her family, they had absolutely no doubt that she would attack it with the same ferocity she had attacked other challenges in her life. Through countless rounds of chemotherapy, infections, hospital stays and a bone marrow transplant - she was courageous. Her unwavering faith and fortitude were truly a gift to witness. Once it was determined the bone marrow transplant failed, and there was nothing more the doctors and nurses could do - a peace came over Lori. She knew, as her family did, that she had done absolutely everything she could have done to beat AML. She would have gone to the ends of the earth to have even just another day with her family. So instead, she decided AML did not beat her, she beat it. It did not take faith; it did not corrode love. Through her last moments she was beautiful, full of life, until her earthly light was extinguished much too soon. She wanted her family to thrive, enjoy life as she did. Now, over 10 years since her passing, her family continues to live her legacy through things she would have loved such as walking in her honour at this year's Light the Night Walk for Leukemia and Lymphoma.