Editor's Note: For those of you who have been following Dr. Saralyn Mark's blog -- and her regular updates on her mother's experience with the health care system -- we're saddened to share the news that Dr. Mark's mother recently passed away. Below are the remarks Dr. Mark delivered at her mother's funeral on August 18, 2009. Please join us in sharing your condolences with Saralyn.

Our beautiful mother and devoted wife passed away at sunset near the end of Shabbos, our Sabbath, with her loving family at her side. She left with the grace and dignity that she shared with everyone she met throughout her life. Her courage and bravery helped all of us to understand the beauty of life, family and faith. She fought with her last breath and let us know with her gentle smiles throughout that we were very much loved. It was an honor to be her daughter.

My mother was our matriarch, our role model. She never gave up and she never showed fear except one time. Last Tuesday, I asked her after she had been through so many procedures and pain if she still wanted to continue the fight. She told me 'yes' because she was 'afraid' to leave us because she loved us so much. She was willing to endure anything -- and endure she did. She welcomed the opportunity to find any way to live and be with her family and her Jewish community.

I was in awe of my mom. Every week and then every 2 weeks for 17 months she would actually look forward to her chemo treatments. She put on her best outfit with matching lipstick, ate a hamburger before she started, and never complained. Even when she was in the ICU during the past 3 weeks, she wanted her chemo because she felt that it would help her to stay with us. I will never forget watching my mom eat a steak and a salad while on a ventilator because she knew she needed nutrition to win her battle, which she did. She beat pancreatic cancer -- an amazing feat.

I would like to share with you a few stories about my mom. She took me to college in New York City. When she saw my dorm room and that it had one window facing a wall in an air shaft with the furnace below so I could keep the window open all year round and be in a sauna, she smiled and promised me that she would never tell my dad about my lodging which would upset him since all my siblings had gone to college in Colorado with scenic settings. I will never forget the care packages that she sent me. It was not just simple cookies and mandelbrot, I had seasoned veal chops and stuffed cabbage in my bags. I remember hoping my flights were on time so they wouldn't defrost in my luggage.

But one of the best stories that so captures the extraordinary spirit of my mom took place about 3 1/2 years ago. My mother was sent to hospice because no one wanted to operate on her fractured hip; she was considered too high of a risk. After about 10 days of no food and little water, she opened her eyes and told my sisters and me that she could not be buried next Sunday because the Denver Broncos would be in the playoffs and no one would come to her funeral. Needless-to-say, we kidnapped her from hospice, found a surgeon, and she walked again.

My mom was a brilliant woman with a wicked sense of humor -- truly a force of nature. She taught me to never abandon my dreams, to never be silent when I could speak for those who did not have a voice, and to never forget my roots and the community that nurtured me. When she had something serious to say to me, it usually began with 'little girl' and I knew I was in for an interesting discussion. She taught me that the inner spirit and love that surround a person can influence their health and well-being. And in my darkest hour of my life last Saturday, she put her arms around me as I put my head to her chest and she helped me to begin to heal.

My mother loved this synagogue and the stained glass windows. It reminded her of the Chagall windows at Hadassah Hospital in Israel. Being here, I recall a poem by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross:

'People are like stained glass windows.
They sparkle and shine when the sun is out,
but when the darkness sets in,
their true beauty is revealed only if there is light from within.'

On Saturday, when we left the hospital for the last time, I looked up at the night sky and saw the brightest heavenly object-the planet Venus, the planet of love. It illuminated my path all the way back to my parents' home. And I knew that my mother's spirit was there-brilliantly shining to provide courage and strength for my wonderful siblings and phenomenal father and for me, my mother's shayna madela, her little girl.