This is the eulogy I delivered for my mom, Kathy Moritz, who died on Feb. 16.
To honor my mother, I'm going to keep this short.
First of all, on behalf of my dad, Amy and myself, to all of you here ... I'm sorry for YOUR loss.
Three gifts my mother gave me.
The first is an undying love of college basketball.
My mom loved all sports. Every Sunday in football season, my phone would ring around 4:30 or so, and instead of hello, we'd just say. "How bout them Bills?" - the level of sarcasm depending on the result. One of her favorite places in the world was at a baseball stadium on a nice summer day.
But college basketball was her first love, and she had a world-class basketball mind. She knew Tim Duncan would be a star after seeing him play one game in 1994. She knew about Gonzaga being a top program before any East coast media member had heard of them. When my sister and I were both reporters covering college basketball, we routinely called her for advice ... and it was always really good.
There's no doubt my mom is with the communion of saints right now, handing out her NCAA bracket pool and making sure everyone pays up.
The second gift my mother gave me was a love of words.
People often asked how my sister and I both became writers, and the truth is we were destined to because we grew up in a house where reading mattered. Three daily newspapers, which my mother always read - backward to forward, for reasons that I still don't understand. Books everywhere. Regular trips to the library. One thing that stands out to Amy and me is that every gift giving occasion, we always got books. That love of writing and of reading, the importance of education, the value and the company that comes from your favorite book and staying up late to read, is my mom's legacy in my house.
Don't get me wrong: My mother was an impatient, stubborn old polish lady. She was an impatient, stubborn old polish lady when she was in her 40s, and probably in her 30s and 20s as well.
But that impatience and stubbornness came from a good place. It came from a place of love and of loyalty, of making sure that people were treated fairly, that no one got special treatment they didn't deserve, that everyone got a fair shake.
And there was no one my mother loved more than her family.
And that's all of you here. She'd say she'd be upset that you're all here, "making a fuss," but inside, she'd be so happy you were here. Her family from Emmet Belknap. Her family from the board office and from around Lockport. Her family family.
There is nothing more important than family. The family you're born into and the family you make.
And that is the third gift my mother gave me.