Colleen Lorraine Reece

(October 1, 1935 – September 14, 2024)

Family Reflections

Kelly Schneider, niece

We are a very fortunate family. We have always had a tremendous amount of love, appreciation and loyalty for each other. When Colleen talked about having the “best family”, it was rooted in years of regular visits, and celebrations, and choosing to be active in each other’s lives. Colleen and Grandma Pearl moved into the Auburn house to be close to our family, and we grew up with she and our Grandma integrated into our childhoods.

I was always excited for meals with Colleen and Grandma Pearl, because they would bring Grandma’s (practically) famous biscuits, or even better-DESSERT (a rare offering in our household)! Some of our kids have already asked for a copy of Great Aunt Colleen’s Apple Cake.

Colleen always had a listening ear, a simple meal, and a spot on the couch, for a visitor. I had many naps under a blanket and a bowl of soup, when I visited as a worn out college student. She was generous with her time.

Today, I went to pay a few bills, and my last Birthday note from Colleen, with a bit of cash like she always included, was behind the recent mail. It was a lovely reminder of her constant remembrance of important and loved people in her life…and there were an abundance of us!

I write this in celebration of my Aunt Colleen, and the broad circles of people she touched, with her kindness, generosity, acceptance, and faith in their goodness.
Colleen’s faith in Jesus was strong, and actively lived out in her daily choices. We can rest in the peace of knowing we will be reunited with her.

She was loved, and is missed.

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David Reece, nephew

It was a joy to have Aunt Colleen as part of my entire life.  Her priority for prayer, faith through storms, love for family, passion for writing, and kindness shown to others has made a lasting difference.  I am grateful that through Jesus her life has not ended but has only begun and that I will one day see her again.

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Julie DeMarco, niece

Going through Aunt Colleen’s things the past few days, we stumbled across old proofs of a youth rendition of Pollyanna she had adapted. In the manuscript, Pollyanna opines, “You see, when you’re hunting for the glad things, you sort of forget the other kind.” That was a hallmark of Colleen’s life. Regardless of what happened, her rearview mirror only reflected the good. We used to laugh as Colleen would relate a story through her “sunshine” filter and we would compare my dad’s less rosy-lens version.

She did that with memories, and she did that with people. If you were Colleen‘s friend or family, she only saw the good. She was fiercely loyal. She counted you among her treasured possessions. She kept every letter, note, and picture you sent. She prayed for you frequently and purposefully. Her circle of friends was wide and grew wider in her last days. She found purpose and joy in serving.

The week she passed, she sent the following message to my daughter, Sophia. “I can no longer witness the way I used to, but He continues to open unexpected doors and nudges me to walk through them!!!!!! My part is to simply be listening  and . . . when He nudges us . . . follow His promptings.” I smile imagining the joyous reunion she is having with friends, family, and her Jesus, on the other side.

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Sophia, grand-niece

Aunt Colleen was the embodiment of love and care. Since we were little, we always got personalized notes for our birthday, expressing her love for us, which always made me feel so special. Continuing into my mission, her weekly personalized notes of encouragement and love meant the world. She was a woman of God, of love, and of family. She expressed it in how kind she was to others, how she lifted us all when we felt down, in her constant devotion and trust in God, her treasuring of the special treasures we had given her over the years, and in reminding us that we were always loved by sending us her books. She was and is an incredible aunt and I will forever be grateful for her love!

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Alexa, grand-niece

It’s been said that you can recognize a Christian by the way they treat others. I can’t honestly say I’ve met many people who embody the character of Christ so fully that I recognize them as such. Colleen was one of the few people I know whose testimony of the Savior shone so bright, it was unmistakeable. While there are many stories I could share about the personal impact Colleen had on me, I can think of only one that adequately conveys Colleen’s influence on my life.

Colleen was generous and kind. What little she had, she gave freely. She treasured her family and friends. She listened intently, especially in her later years, to make sure everyone felt welcomed.

Once, at a family gathering, Colleen brought a cake to share with the family. In typical Reece family fashion, we ate dinner, socialized for a bit, then gathered around the table once more for dessert. I couldn’t have been much older than 5, so I’m sure I had a plate full of goodies that I took to the table. As Colleen prepared to leave and we said our goodbyes, I told her how much I had loved her apple cake. It would have been easy for Colleen to forget the passing comment of a 5-year-old girl, but that wasn’t who Colleen was. For as long as I can remember, Colleen would show up, apple cake in hand, to every family gathering. Without fail, she found me each time, to make sure I knew she had brought the apple cake I loved.

In an era where the noise of the hustle and bustle of the world is unfailingly loud, Colleen was grounded in her testimony of God and of His Son, Jesus Christ. She was close to the Spirit. She inspired others to listen a little closer to its promptings. She helped me understand how important it is to make people – especially people we love – feel seen and understood.

Since her passing, I’ve thought of the apple cake often — not for the cake itself, necessarily, but for the principle behind it. I’m striving to be a little more like Colleen in the way I treat others and the way I honor my Savior. I’m certain the world would be a better place if we all tried to be a little more like her.

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Cade, grand-nephew

Growing up and going to family functions, you couldn’t make it 5 steps into the house without seeing the turquoise or hot red pants that were part of Colleen’s signature style. I loved her eccentricities, stories of her apple cake that had been passed down from King Arthur, and the corny jokes we would always exchange. Colleen was always a kind and giving person, and a shining example of how to live your life through faith. I’ll miss the annual romance novel I would be given every Christmas, or the fun designs she would create for birthday cards that always had a crisp $5 in them.

Colleen held a special place in my childhood and life growing up, and it brings me peace knowing I’ll see her and everyone else again one day as well. As a parting note – Colleen liked to say, “Other people say they have the best families, but they don’t know ours” with a sly wink. I think I’d have to agree with her. You will be missed, Colleen.

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Natalie, grand-niece

 Anyone who knew Colleen, knew she was a ‘stop what you’re doing to help someone else kind of gal.’ You knew, without fail, she would send your 1st birthday card (homemade on her computer) a reply back to any email correspondence, and be the first at family gatherings with packages purchased months before in anticipation of the holidays. You also knew she would cherish and hold onto ANY gift you ever gave her.

One of my favorite memories was when Alexa and I went to weed her yard and she made us stop halfway through when she heard we hadn’t had breakfast. She made us eggs and ham. She stopped what she was doing and was completely focused on listening to us, caring for us, and letting us know how much she loved us. I had heard stories of many people finding food, refuge, company and comfort on her couch, including older friends, college exchange students from out of the country and others in need. For me, it was my first time experiencing the warmth and love that accompanied her care. We will miss you, Aunt Colleen.

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Gabrielle, grand-niece

One of my favorite memories of Aunt Colleen was at family get-togethers as a child. I remember her waltzing through the door in her brightly-colored matching sweatsuit, iconic apple cake in hand, sharing with all the grand nieces and nephews its historical significance to the family. (Passed down from a maid who served in the royal house to a great-grandmother). I find those memories are frozen in time when I open the family cookbook she compiled and start peeling apples.

Another favorite memory was Colleen’s positive comments interspersed in my weekly missionary emails. Each week, she would pepper my email with short uplifting phrases…”How interesting. Wonderful! What a great story. Priceless. Fun!” And her clear favorite, “Yes!”, which made no fewer than four appearances in each correspondence. In one of her final emails to me she told me she had headed for a walk only to have the skies open and dump. She said, “coming back up the hill to my home, a glorious rainbow appeared high in the sky above me. Thank you, God!” It’s now my turn to respond, “Yes!” “I hope your current view of the rainbow is everything you ever dreamed!”

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