Bernadette Louise (DeeDee) Burke Braunstein, 76, passed peacefully surrounded by family and friends May 27th, at her family home in Camas, WA, from Alzheimer's disease.

76 years is a long time for humans and a blink of an eye for the universe. Often, we wonder if our lives have been worth it. If we've changed the world. If our little everyday actions matter. If those of us who aren't famous, rich, or powerful can really make a difference. Change the world. They do. They can. My mom was born Feb 28, 1949. She died May 27th, 2025. This is her story. 76 years of everyday decisions, 76 years of touching lives.

She was born to Raymond V. Burke and Margaret M. Kinsella Burke. She was the fourth of eight children: Joseph, Peggy Ann, Mary Kathleen "Trink", Mom, Mary Eileen "MEB", Jean Marie, Ray and John. Her father was an engineer and her mother was a teacher. Brought up Irish Catholic, family was important, as was church, a good sense of humor and homemade chocolate sauce on ice cream. My mom spent her formative years on the south side of Chicago. Her beloved family home sat on 78th and Merrill and was the site of many childhood memories, whether it was climbing out onto the dormer to tease their father or sharing one large bed with multiple sisters. My mom used to tell me she and her sisters would fight to not be the last one in bed because the last one in bed had to get back out of bed and turn off the lights, and they all feared the ghost who lived in their room. Mom was not above pulling her younger sister MEB back so she made it to the bed first, but stopped at actually pulling her to the ground like any other big sister would. Of course that changed when she was older. Her brother Ray napped in the afternoons as all good Burke children of a certain age did. Deep in sleep, Ray would suddenly be pulled from bed screaming and dragged into the dark closet. Terrified he remained there until his mother found him. Day in, day out, he would go to sleep only to be awoken being dragged into the closet. It was years before my mom "the ghost" admitted she was the one doing it the whole time. A shock to one and all given her reputation as somewhat of a "goody two-shoes." This vivid imagination served her well in school when she discovered her love for art and clay. She won "Mission Queen" at St. Thomas Aquinas High School where, as legend has it, she walked to school every day, uphill both ways in the Chicago snow, in knee high socks.

With graduation came a job at Sears, where she met Al and to whose 21st birthday party she found herself invited to by a handsome stranger named Anthony (Tony) Braunstein. Sitting on a couch with their cokes, they talked all night and eventually shared their first kiss. A hell of a first date! Their second date - meeting the priest to discuss marriage - was even more memorable. They were married Aug 2nd, 1969, despite Mom's younger brothers trying to convince Dad to climb out the window and flee "while he still could."

Mom left Sears to work at a bank and eventually left the Midwest altogether for the excitement and opportunity of the wild wild west, aka Portland, OR. There the young couple met many dear friends and settled down. With the arrival of their first child - an adopted son named Anthony (Tony Jr) - and another son Joseph (Joe), less than a year later they moved to an acre in Camas, WA. A few years later they had another son Robert (Bob) and four years after that, a daughter named Theresa - me. Obviously, they stopped once they hit perfection.

Mom - even though she had always lived in cities - loved nature in all its forms and embraced the homesteading way of life. She took up organic gardening, canning, composting, and recycling. Her compost pile - turned EVERY TIME by her long-suffering children - was the envy of all and made her large garden successful year after year. In addition, we would forage for blackberries which mom would turn into jam. I vividly remember helping her peel apples to make into fruit leather. She would dry them and all kinds of other fruit. Her banana chips were the best - though the best-looking ones were always saved as a barter with the man who cleaned our chimney. Mom was entirely self-taught. She also embraced the fuzzy side of nature - always having a pet or two around the house loved as a member of the family, in addition to all the wild creatures who loved to nibble her plants.

Here is where she was lucky enough to not just find good friends like Ross and Marguerite, and Pixie and her family, but multiple best friends like Stan and Shirley, and Sue and John, whose families and kids, Marlo, Mark, Greg and Katie, respectively became part of our own. Walking the dead end street, they solved the world's problems, and Mom was often the one people came to when they had problems. She was the rock of the street. Every new neighbor was greeted with fresh-made bread or muffins and personally welcomed. Kids, who were too cool for their own parents, stood in line every morning behind us to receive their hug and kiss goodbye, and she was always there to help with school projects. Her engineering brain and thirst for knowledge made her excellent at research and making learning fun. Once when Katie was doing a project for school, she needed to look something up in our compilation of encyclopedias - back in ancient times before computers, encyclopedias were our "google."  Mom helped her look it up, showed her how to cite it, and how to use the encyclopedias to look up other useful facts. Her excitement made learning fun and Katie took that joy of learning with her into adulthood. With Mom, learning was never work. It was always exploration and joy.

A speech impediment and learning disability made traditional schooling hard for her but Mom had a wonderful thirst for knowledge of all kinds. When it became apparent food allergies were affecting the health of her multi-handicap son, Bob, she became an expert on nutrition, alternative foods and traditional medicine. Long before it was popular or mainstream, she had a tea for everything, used spelt flour and goat or sheep cheese. She did yoga and Qigong, and celebrated the mind-body connection. Mom would look at other cultures' food and expose our eyes and bellies to all kinds of new things. Some were great triumphs, others… like the infamous "Orange Beef" incident, which was so bad even the dog wouldn't eat it, were less successful. It never stopped her. Mom did extensive research on everything and anything, which meant, unfortunately, there was a time in our childhood where we had carob chips instead of chocolate, and rice crackers instead of potato chips. Imagine her joy (and ours) when she read new research showing chocolate had antioxidants and it was allowed back into the house again!

Mom inherited her engineering father's brain, and tools were often on her Christmas list. So, it shouldn't have surprised us the many times we came home to a strange man holding a light or passing her a tool as she fixed whatever appliance he had been called for.

Her enterprising mind also worked uniquely on punishment. We were sent to the corner to think about what we did (and absolutely did not play Superman in the phone booth) or went to bed without dinner or ice cream. An absolute favorite was once when Tony Jr., ever the rebelling teenager, defied her request to stop whatever he was doing with a "make me, whatcha gonna do?!" Mom looked around the table, picked up her water glass and said confidently "I've got water." Tony, always one to push his luck said "look everyone, she's got water! OOOHHH." Which quickly turned to absolute shock and coughing when she threw the entire contents of the glass in his face. Her sense of humor was a joy to behold.

All of Mom's previous problem solving, engineering, mind-body connection, and sense of humor came to fruition when she opened "Gma's Daycare" and took care of her seven grandkids: Jessie, Kaitlyn, Trey, Hailey, Ashley, Jakob and Natalie. I say with no jealousy whatsoever that it was by far her favorite job. Mom got to take everything she ever learned and apply it to giant-cheeked babies and giggling toddlers. They learned yoga and watched Sesame Street. There was rose quartz to gently hold against your cheek to help you calm down and rocks to be painted with water. Every day they walked up and down the street looking for bunnies in the bushes, sang songs about the monkey tail tree and explored waterfalls. She had dinosaur chicken nuggets and sweet potato fries and lunch boxes filled with water and Zbars for the trips back to their parents. They learned how to balance on curbs and Mom always wore the best earrings for small grandkids to look at and play with. They got her "Special Juice" when they were sick, and all the help they wanted on homework. Oh, who am I kidding. I'm totally jealous. I would enroll in Gma's Daycare today if I could.

My favorite memory of my parents is once when I was sick and sleeping in their room, I woke up and was all alone. I crept down the stairs and there - backlit by the light streaming in from the windows - w[1] [2] ere my parents dancing. No music. Just the two of them together, lost in each other's presence, oblivious to me. I sat on the stairs and watched them for a while then crept back upstairs holding that memory with me forever. Mom loved to dance. She danced through life until the end. She still dances in our hearts. She changed the world for the better, for everyone who knew her.

It is impossible to sum up a life in brief stories. These are but a glimpse into her everyday life. Who was my mom? She was kindness personified, intelligent, with a wonderful sense of humor, and her smile and laughter were contagious. She could never finish a joke because she would start laughing before she got through it, and believed everyone should be kind to each other.  She gave the very best hugs - once even winning an impromptu hug competition at a local coffee shop. Her thirst for knowledge and love of learning new things taught us to dream, and be, and do. We were honored to have known, loved, and have been on this journey with her. The holes in our hearts will soon be filled with dancing, joyful memories  of her and her love. For now, we try to take what we learned from her and use it in a world that no longer has her in it, but is filled with her love, kindness, and humor.

She was predeceased by her parents, Raymond and Margaret Burke; her sister, Mary Eileen "MEB" Burke; her son, Anthony "Tony Jr."; and beloved pets, Baron, Lad, Snowball, Dickens, Angel, Star and a host of chickens. She is survived by her husband of 56 years, Tony; her son Joe and his wife JaiAnn; her son Robert and daughter Theresa; grandkids Jessica, Kaitlyn, Trey, Hailey, Ashley, Jakob, and Natalie; and her siblings Joe, Peggy Ann, Mary Kathleen "Trink," Jean Marie, Ray, and John; and her cat Dora.