Diane Lee Allen

On April 7th Diane passed away unexpectedly. Her family and a few close friends met for a private service to remember her. Diane's husband, Mark, delivered the following eulogy in her memory:

Diane had a unique ability to make everyone she touched feel special. I met her in the late 80's when I moved to Connecticut. I didn't know many people and connected with her through a friend and became part of her social circle.

I can recall meeting her for the first time in a crowded bar in Hartford. This petite, bubbly woman came up to me and started talking to me. She was such a flirt. In that crowded bar this 5'0" tall woman made me feel like I was the only person in that bar. She made me feel special.

It wasn't until a few months later that we became a couple. From that point forward, she'd always find ways to remind me of how much she cared about me. Often when I was traveling for work she'd send me a gift or leave me a note just to let me know she was thinking of me.

She also liked to find ways to make events more special. I was driving up Route 1 in Saugus the other day with the kids. We were headed to Salisbury Beach to help clear our heads. I said to the kids, it's probably been 30 years since I drove this stretch of road. I remember, mom and I were going to a wedding in Maine. We were living in Connecticut at the time and I'd come up to Southboro a day early to visit my parents. I was sitting in the backyard with them when we heard a car horn blaring and the distinctive whooting of Di in the driveway. I walked out and there she was all excited because she'd rented a convertible for us. That was Di, always making things more fun.

Birthdays were very important to Di. They were often week long events. I recall one birthday when we were dating. She came to see me and informed me that in order to get my gift I'd have to participate in a treasure hunt she'd prepared. Now, anyone who knows us realizes that Di and I were the poster children for "opposites attract". On the one hand you had Di, a spitfire, the word our old friend Jennifer Lozzio used to describe her when I told her about this terrible tragedy. That word so aptly describes her. On the other hand, you had me, the reserved, stoic, quiet man. I recall looking at Di, not cracking a smile and shaking my head. She looked up at me, and gave me some of her sass and said " Come on, can't you just smile and have fun!".

That was Di, always bringing the fun. My friends were immediately enraptured by her. They loved her energy, her ability to bring the fun. In fact, it's fair to say they probably looked forward to seeing her more than me.

When Di and I finally married and decided to start a family I recall how anxious and nervous she was about becoming a mom. She worried that she wouldn't be a good mom. I am here to tell you, she wasn't a good mom, she was an amazing mom.

As Taylor said the other day, mom was my biggest cheerleader. That was her, the spitfire cheerleader from Rockville High. That energy and spirit never left her. She was there to support Taylor and Matthew through good times and bad. When Taylor had an issue with a boyfriend, her mom was her rock. When Matthew broke his leg, his mom was by his side every day looking for ways to make him feel better, to make him feel special.

Her friend Ellen told me that Di would always brag about Taylor and Matthew. She'd say how happy she was that they were good friends. I've watched them grow even closer these last few days. That's a tribute to their mom, who was not a good mom, she was an amazing mom.

Di wasn't just an amazing mom to her own kids. I've had a couple of people reach out over the last few days to express their feelings about her as a mom. Her good friend Karen told me that when she informed her daughter Sammie that Di had passed, there wasn't a second thought. Sammie was coming home from DC to be at this service because she thought of Diane as a second mother to her growing up.

Matthew has a good friend Eddie. Eddie's situation at home wasn't the best, so he hung around our house a lot. Di always made Eddie feel warm and welcome in our home. When Eddie learned of Di's passing he sent flowers with a note that read "Diane was one of the sweetest, most kind-hearted people I have ever met." That sums up who she was.

As a friend, if you were part of her small inner circle you were lucky. She was an incredibly loyal and trustworthy friend to those she held close. As her friend Ellen said to me, Di was the glue of our group. She was the one who planned the brunches, the catered dinner or the weekend away. She relished that role.

She was also the one to send a note, a text, a voicemail, always recording and re-recording it to make sure she got it just right, that she expressed to you how important you were to her, how special you were.

It was with her friends in particular that I witnessed her greatest strength. She was the most empathetic person I know. When her friends were feeling pain or sorrow, Di felt it as much, perhaps more than you did. If you were happy and joyous, she was as happy and joyous, if not more so than you were. That was Di. She was passionate. She always closed any conversation with you with the same three words- I love you- and she meant it.

We all know that Di liked to be the center of attention. This empathy she displayed, however, had nothing to do with her being recognized or rewarded for her efforts. She just wanted those close to her to know she cared, that she thought you were special.

Case in point, Di had a friend, who was not part of this inner circle, but a friend nonetheless. Her friend was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago. Di decided to send her little gifts, anonymously, throughout this woman's chemo treatments. It was never about being acknowledged for it, it was about showing her friend someone cared about her at such an incredibly difficult time in her life.

Sleep hasn't come easy for me the last few nights. I've found myself awake trying to keep myself busy. The other night I was going through emails, trying to stay on top of things. I noticed an email regarding a salon appointment Di had scheduled for the other day. I don't know why, but I felt compelled to send them an email to say Di wouldn't be there because she'd passed away over the weekend. I figured at some point over the next day or so I would get the obligatory response from someone saying something like "sorry for your loss". Instead, within a matter of minutes I got an email back from the salon owner who expressed how distraught and sad she was to hear this. She went on to say that Di always brought such a positive vibe into the salon and was someone who truly cared about those close to her. That was Di, always connecting with people, even relative strangers.

As I said, I've struggled to sleep the last few nights, so another night I was leafing through old photos. I wanted to find pictures of Di that captured who she was. The stack of pictures I pulled out grew and grew and grew. In each of them, whether it was just her, her and a friend, her and the kids, or her and I, I saw that woman I fell in love with all those years ago. I saw the smile that could light up a room. I saw that little spitfire that she was.

Many of you know that Di was in Marketing back in the day and she always loved a good slogan. I noticed the slogan on the outside jacket of one of the packets of pictures. It said "Hold on to the smiles". That's what I want to do. I want to remember her as that loyal friend, that doting aunt, that wonderful sister, that amazing mother and that loving and caring wife who just wanted us all to feel special.

Over the last few years, I didn't tell Di I loved her often enough. I'll say it now, I love you, Di.