Today we celebrate my mom, Dianna Lee Cottriel or Di as many of you call her. 

My mom was born on September 12, 1967 in Santa Barbara. She was the baby of the family, raised by her dad here in Goleta.

She graduated from San Marcos High School in 1985 and had planned to work towards her cosmetology license after graduation. Just like the song in her favorite movie “Grease”, she was a beauty school drop-out. My mom held many titles at local companies over her lifetime, however, my favorite title of hers was Mom. She was so damn good at it. My mom (and my dad) raised us to be independent, to take risks yet own the consequences, and to do things we love and enjoy everyday. 

We did not go on lavish trips every summer or board a plane for the holidays; we took lake-side camping trips, spent long days at the beach, and spent time with our family playing board games and enjoying meals together. That was the good life. I have so many special and unforgettable moments from my childhood ... Read moreand it all is thanks to my parents. They just did things they loved to do, took us along to show us their world, and it became our childhood. It was the absolute best. 

For as long as I can remember, my mom always trusted us. Even at a young age she did, and in return I trusted her fully. I told her everything… almost. I was never scared to call her though or to confess to a mess up. Actually when I was 19, I got in trouble for using a very good fake ID at Savoy nightclub and both my parents picked me up that night while the police waited with me. They were both my first call.  Always.

I never hesitated to Facetime, call, or text her. In fact, we exchanged dozens and dozens of text messages everyday up until she was admitted to Cottage this last time. 
“Jaylee was a happy girl at school drop off” 
“Your grandson weighs a whopping 13 lbs already” “Can you send me that chicken recipe?” 
“Look at this outfit”
I texted her everything. Along with hundreds of photos of Teddy or my kids.

Going back to the start of our family, before she was mom to me, she was mom to Jenelle and Jeremy. She helped raise them and treated them both like her own. Jeremy was her boy and I hear they had a special connection from the very beginning. That connection never went away and she was “mom” ever since.

In 1990 she became a wife- something she always wanted.. She married my dad Bill on April 14th and truly was so happy to be with my dad. My parents' marriage is one that many of you have referenced in your own life. Their love is palpable and so many of you have witnessed first-hand the relationship they have always had together. They are inseparable and the foundation of their love is something that is both rare and extraordinary. I call them eternal soulmates because I know even though my mom is no longer earthside, she is still with him, watching over him (probably a little too close), and proud of the life they had together. He will never go a day without her love and protection. My mom adored him so much. He was her William or babe, or Cottriel. They were the best couple.
I will honor my promise to her to take care of him for the rest of his life. I just know he’s already a little sick of me honestly, but I will try. Basically she told me to make sure he doesn’t eat a lot of red meat, so if you see him enjoying a steak dinner, you better tell Di.

Gosh, I just know she is the most beautiful angel. I imagine her wings have leopard print and some pink. Possibly even some rhinestones on there. She is wearing some new Mac lipstick that none of us even know about yet, and she probably has her hair freshly blown out and curled. Do we think Heaven has a Dry Bar?

JAnd we all know, she is probably still wearing black up there.  

Grandma was her next title, but she would kill me if I used that term. She was Grami or Mimi to her six grandkids: Kalea, Teigan, Thea, Jaylee, Margot, and Jace. She absolutely loved all of them and I know she took all seven years of memories with them with her.

My mom was so proud of you all. She was proud to be yours and she will forever be with you, just in a different form. Look for her. 

At the hospital, I asked my mom what she was going to come back as and she told us she would return as a dragonfly. The day after she passed, we were visited by 2 of them at Goleta Beach, which just felt too aligned to be a coincidence. Since then I have had numerous encounters with both dragonflies and butterflies; I know she’s around. 

I can’t go on without acknowledging a fluffy, little, white dog that sits at home in the peace and quiet while we’re here. He’s napping I’m sure, belly up and paws to the sky. We joked that we shared custody of Teddy, but truthfully we did and he probably loves her more than me. He has been her nurse this whole year and I know he brought her some comfort on really rough days.

A few places, you’ll see the words to a song repeated. I hope you Dance by Lee Ann Womack has been a special song to our family since my mom battled a separate illness in 2001.  The song is my mom to a T. 

“And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance. I hope you dance”

Choose to experience the good things around you. Embrace life. Face challenges. Choose to grow. Choose to try and not be afraid to fail. Take chances 

“I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean”

Appreciate life and don’t ever take it for granted.  And never lose your sense of wonder and humility.

Just like Di.

When I started to write I wrote down words that reminded me of my mom. Kind. Honest. Brave. Loving. Stubborn. Forgiving. Supportive. Loyal. Generous. Compassionate. Fierce. Gracious. These all came to mind. All ring true and I know they’re many examples backing all of these up too.

Truthfully I knew my mom was amazing, but since her passing, I’ve been surprised to learn of more and more people who’s life she affected for the better and how much an impact she made on so many of you here today and with us from afar. She was a girl’s girl and had your back. She brought so many people together and seemed to be the anchor for her friends and even her family. She was the rock of our house for sure. So supportive of our interested in every sport, pageants, and hobbies. She taught us all how to clean with a daily chore chart, and just made sure we were going to be ready for the real world.

I won't even give the word cancer a long spotlight in my speech today. It doesn't deserve it, but my mom did fight it with all her might for the past 8 months. She didn't share a lot of the pain and discomfort she was feeling to many of you. Maybe to protect your heart and mind, or hers. I just know she was not living life like she wanted to. Like she had all her life. Many days she was miserable actually. It was hard to acknowledge it myself, because seeing the woman you love most in your life suffer, is a slow heartbreak you don't even want to unravel. Towards the end, things got harder. I actually proposed we do family photos in September, but she didn;t have the energy or strength to do so. Before we knew it, she was back in the ER and days later learned it was her time; Her angel orders had arrived. 

Once she was transferred to hospice care, we had the hard talks about the next steps.
One of my questions was, “what do you want?” And she said “no boo hooing. Celebration of life. Like a party” 
got it mom. So “no boo-hooing”

In light of her wishes, let’s celebrate her. She would be so mad if we sat around sad or angry, missing out on joyful moments in life, both simple and extravagant ones. 

I read something recently and it stuck with me.

“One day, none of this will matter. Not what you built. Now what you owned. Not the titles, trophies, or numbers. The only thing that will matter is how you showed up. Did you love fully? Did you give without holding back? Did the people you cared about feel it? Most people waste their lives chasing things they can’t take with them, but when it’s all over, the only thing that lasts is what you gave away.” 

I can confidently say my mama was a firm believer in this. She never let the small things take over her mind, and she always made sure the people around her felt love and appreciation. She was always thinking of others and always had something to give, whether it be cash, extra food, clothes, makeup, or just her time. She was a friendly therapy session for a lot of people in her life and a go-to for many needing advice or just "Di time"

I also wanted to share something I read years ago that stuck with me. It was about not waiting to tell someone how much they mean to us until they're gone. Until their funeral. Why not say things at birthdays instead, or holidays, or just a random Tuesday.

We leave so much love unspoken, thinking there will always be time. But there isn't. Say it now. Tell people you're proud of them. Tell people you love them. Celebrate them while they're still here to smile back to you. Live like Di did. 

We were fortunate enough to celebrate her 58th birthday this year. She was discharged from a hospital stay on her actual day, but we celebrated weeks later once she felt better. there aren’t many days I’ll cherish more than that date. September 27th. we sang happy birthday, celebrated her day of birth and watched her blow candles out for the year ahead not knowing it would be the last time, the last cake. I wonder what she wished for. I wonder if she knew. I know she felt love that day and that’s really the important part.

I know the coming months of holidays and traditions will be tough on everyone here. At least they will be a little different than before and feel a bit heavy. Truthfully, we will all be navigating each upcoming season with a broken heart.

To my mommy:

I hope you’re at peace, free of pain. I hope you’re in the most beautiful place imaginable. I hope “Dirty Dancing”, “Grease”, and “Saturday Night Fever” play on repeat. I hope they have bottomless lemon bars and strawberry scones.  I hope the angels also know how to pour your cocktail just like Dad did. I hope all your favorite songs by Chaka Kahn and Journey fill the lulls between the angel harmonies. 

I know the first ones you found were your dad and your brother, followed by countless lost friends, family, and Jasper, our family dog growing up. I can only imagine the reunion you had up there and the arms that welcomed you home. 

I was lucky enough to get to reiterate so much back to my mom at her bedside before she passed. I felt a lot of peace in her passing because I never held back on telling her what she meant to me throughout my life. My mom knew what she was to me. All my life I have loved spoiling her with gifts and cards, celebrating our birthdays together, and never taking for granted the fact that I even got to wake up and talk to her everyday. Many of you know her story growing up, but she often joked that I was her mom. I loved taking care of her and making her feel special, although I also loved to boss her around at times. So in a sense, I feel like so much peace comes from protecting her like a mother would protect her own. Something I don't think my mom ever got growing up. Maybe I got to give that to her as her daughter. Love, just in a different form.

I will share some of the final things I got to tell her because I know she's here listening and deserves to hear it all again.

Mom, 

Thank you for my life. Thank you for being such an amazing mother. We will never forget you, and your name will be sung for eternity. Thank you for allowing us to be us. You were so welcoming to people and their flaws, and I admired you for that quality. Thank you for allowing us the space to grow and evolve and to figure things out with gentle guidance. Today and everyday, we will celebrate your life. 

When my time comes and I am called home too, the first person I’ll be looking for up there is going to be you.

Thank you Read less

Today we celebrate my mom, Dianna Lee Cottriel or Di as many of you call her. 

My mom was born on September 12, 1967 in Santa Barbara. She was the baby of the family, raised by her dad here in Goleta.

She graduated from San Marcos High School in 1985 and had planned to work towards her cosmetology license after graduation. Just like the song in her favorite movie “Grease”, she was a beauty school drop-out. My mom held many titles at local companies over her lifetime, however, my favorite title... Read more of hers was Mom. She was so damn good at it. My mom (and my dad) raised us to be independent, to take risks yet own the consequences, and to do things we love and enjoy everyday. 

We did not go on lavish trips every summer or board a plane for the holidays; we took lake-side camping trips, spent long days at the beach, and spent time with our family playing board games and enjoying meals together. That was the good life. I have so many special and unforgettable moments from my childhood and it all is thanks to my parents. They just did things they loved to do, took us along to show us their world, and it became our childhood. It was the absolute best. 

For as long as I can remember, my mom always trusted us. Even at a young age she did, and in return I trusted her fully. I told her everything… almost. I was never scared to call her though or to confess to a mess up. Actually when I was 19, I got in trouble for using a very good fake ID at Savoy nightclub and both my parents picked me up that night while the police waited with me. They were both my first call.  Always.

I never hesitated to Facetime, call, or text her. In fact, we exchanged dozens and dozens of text messages everyday up until she was admitted to Cottage this last time. 
“Jaylee was a happy girl at school drop off” 
“Your grandson weighs a whopping 13 lbs already” “Can you send me that chicken recipe?” 
“Look at this outfit”
I texted her everything. Along with hundreds of photos of Teddy or my kids.

Going back to the start of our family, before she was mom to me, she was mom to Jenelle and Jeremy. She helped raise them and treated them both like her own. Jeremy was her boy and I hear they had a special connection from the very beginning. That connection never went away and she was “mom” ever since.

In 1990 she became a wife- something she always wanted.. She married my dad Bill on April 14th and truly was so happy to be with my dad. My parents' marriage is one that many of you have referenced in your own life. Their love is palpable and so many of you have witnessed first-hand the relationship they have always had together. They are inseparable and the foundation of their love is something that is both rare and extraordinary. I call them eternal soulmates because I know even though my mom is no longer earthside, she is still with him, watching over him (probably a little too close), and proud of the life they had together. He will never go a day without her love and protection. My mom adored him so much. He was her William or babe, or Cottriel. They were the best couple.
I will honor my promise to her to take care of him for the rest of his life. I just know he’s already a little sick of me honestly, but I will try. Basically she told me to make sure he doesn’t eat a lot of red meat, so if you see him enjoying a steak dinner, you better tell Di.

Gosh, I just know she is the most beautiful angel. I imagine her wings have leopard print and some pink. Possibly even some rhinestones on there. She is wearing some new Mac lipstick that none of us even know about yet, and she probably has her hair freshly blown out and curled. Do we think Heaven has a Dry Bar?

JAnd we all know, she is probably still wearing black up there.  

Grandma was her next title, but she would kill me if I used that term. She was Grami or Mimi to her six grandkids: Kalea, Teigan, Thea, Jaylee, Margot, and Jace. She absolutely loved all of them and I know she took all seven years of memories with them with her.

My mom was so proud of you all. She was proud to be yours and she will forever be with you, just in a different form. Look for her. 

At the hospital, I asked my mom what she was going to come back as and she told us she would return as a dragonfly. The day after she passed, we were visited by 2 of them at Goleta Beach, which just felt too aligned to be a coincidence. Since then I have had numerous encounters with both dragonflies and butterflies; I know she’s around. 

I can’t go on without acknowledging a fluffy, little, white dog that sits at home in the peace and quiet while we’re here. He’s napping I’m sure, belly up and paws to the sky. We joked that we shared custody of Teddy, but truthfully we did and he probably loves her more than me. He has been her nurse this whole year and I know he brought her some comfort on really rough days.

A few places, you’ll see the words to a song repeated. I hope you Dance by Lee Ann Womack has been a special song to our family since my mom battled a separate illness in 2001.  The song is my mom to a T. 

“And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance. I hope you dance”

Choose to experience the good things around you. Embrace life. Face challenges. Choose to grow. Choose to try and not be afraid to fail. Take chances 

“I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean”

Appreciate life and don’t ever take it for granted.  And never lose your sense of wonder and humility.

Just like Di.

When I started to write I wrote down words that reminded me of my mom. Kind. Honest. Brave. Loving. Stubborn. Forgiving. Supportive. Loyal. Generous. Compassionate. Fierce. Gracious. These all came to mind. All ring true and I know they’re many examples backing all of these up too.

Truthfully I knew my mom was amazing, but since her passing, I’ve been surprised to learn of more and more people who’s life she affected for the better and how much an impact she made on so many of you here today and with us from afar. She was a girl’s girl and had your back. She brought so many people together and seemed to be the anchor for her friends and even her family. She was the rock of our house for sure. So supportive of our interested in every sport, pageants, and hobbies. She taught us all how to clean with a daily chore chart, and just made sure we were going to be ready for the real world.

I won't even give the word cancer a long spotlight in my speech today. It doesn't deserve it, but my mom did fight it with all her might for the past 8 months. She didn't share a lot of the pain and discomfort she was feeling to many of you. Maybe to protect your heart and mind, or hers. I just know she was not living life like she wanted to. Like she had all her life. Many days she was miserable actually. It was hard to acknowledge it myself, because seeing the woman you love most in your life suffer, is a slow heartbreak you don't even want to unravel. Towards the end, things got harder. I actually proposed we do family photos in September, but she didn;t have the energy or strength to do so. Before we knew it, she was back in the ER and days later learned it was her time; Her angel orders had arrived. 

Once she was transferred to hospice care, we had the hard talks about the next steps.
One of my questions was, “what do you want?” And she said “no boo hooing. Celebration of life. Like a party” 
got it mom. So “no boo-hooing”

In light of her wishes, let’s celebrate her. She would be so mad if we sat around sad or angry, missing out on joyful moments in life, both simple and extravagant ones. 

I read something recently and it stuck with me.

“One day, none of this will matter. Not what you built. Now what you owned. Not the titles, trophies, or numbers. The only thing that will matter is how you showed up. Did you love fully? Did you give without holding back? Did the people you cared about feel it? Most people waste their lives chasing things they can’t take with them, but when it’s all over, the only thing that lasts is what you gave away.” 

I can confidently say my mama was a firm believer in this. She never let the small things take over her mind, and she always made sure the people around her felt love and appreciation. She was always thinking of others and always had something to give, whether it be cash, extra food, clothes, makeup, or just her time. She was a friendly therapy session for a lot of people in her life and a go-to for many needing advice or just "Di time"

I also wanted to share something I read years ago that stuck with me. It was about not waiting to tell someone how much they mean to us until they're gone. Until their funeral. Why not say things at birthdays instead, or holidays, or just a random Tuesday.

We leave so much love unspoken, thinking there will always be time. But there isn't. Say it now. Tell people you're proud of them. Tell people you love them. Celebrate them while they're still here to smile back to you. Live like Di did. 

We were fortunate enough to celebrate her 58th birthday this year. She was discharged from a hospital stay on her actual day, but we celebrated weeks later once she felt better. there aren’t many days I’ll cherish more than that date. September 27th. we sang happy birthday, celebrated her day of birth and watched her blow candles out for the year ahead not knowing it would be the last time, the last cake. I wonder what she wished for. I wonder if she knew. I know she felt love that day and that’s really the important part.

I know the coming months of holidays and traditions will be tough on everyone here. At least they will be a little different than before and feel a bit heavy. Truthfully, we will all be navigating each upcoming season with a broken heart.

To my mommy:

I hope you’re at peace, free of pain. I hope you’re in the most beautiful place imaginable. I hope “Dirty Dancing”, “Grease”, and “Saturday Night Fever” play on repeat. I hope they have bottomless lemon bars and strawberry scones.  I hope the angels also know how to pour your cocktail just like Dad did. I hope all your favorite songs by Chaka Kahn and Journey fill the lulls between the angel harmonies. 

I know the first ones you found were your dad and your brother, followed by countless lost friends, family, and Jasper, our family dog growing up. I can only imagine the reunion you had up there and the arms that welcomed you home. 

I was lucky enough to get to reiterate so much back to my mom at her bedside before she passed. I felt a lot of peace in her passing because I never held back on telling her what she meant to me throughout my life. My mom knew what she was to me. All my life I have loved spoiling her with gifts and cards, celebrating our birthdays together, and never taking for granted the fact that I even got to wake up and talk to her everyday. Many of you know her story growing up, but she often joked that I was her mom. I loved taking care of her and making her feel special, although I also loved to boss her around at times. So in a sense, I feel like so much peace comes from protecting her like a mother would protect her own. Something I don't think my mom ever got growing up. Maybe I got to give that to her as her daughter. Love, just in a different form.

I will share some of the final things I got to tell her because I know she's here listening and deserves to hear it all again.

Mom, 

Thank you for my life. Thank you for being such an amazing mother. We will never forget you, and your name will be sung for eternity. Thank you for allowing us to be us. You were so welcoming to people and their flaws, and I admired you for that quality. Thank you for allowing us the space to grow and evolve and to figure things out with gentle guidance. Today and everyday, we will celebrate your life. 

When my time comes and I am called home too, the first person I’ll be looking for up there is going to be you.

Thank you Read less

Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you all for being here with us today to celebrate the life of the mother of Jessica, Jenelle, and me / Grami Di/ Mimi/ William's beloved wife/ miss "what are you doing in this bar, you are under-aged" / Dianna Cottriel.

As many of you well know, Di was the life of any event. She would usually rock some sort of cheetah or leopard print piece of clothing or accessory, and would always come prepared to have a good time. That is what today is meant to be, a reminder that you should always do your best to make the most of any situation, whether is it a joyous occasion, or something less ideal.

As a child, I was blessed to have a father as great as my dad. And he'd be the first to tell you he was the lucky one... though his luck started with him being just a little bit clueless, in the best possible way. Their love story, like my mom, was one-of-a-kind. It started in a bar where my mom was, let's just say, not quite old enough to be there, but you wouldn't... Read more know that if you looked at the ID she borrowed from her older sister that night. She was eager to have a wonderful time out with her girlfriends, not realizing that she was about to meet the man she would spend the rest of her life with. I am so blessed that my dad didn't notice—or at least pretended not to. That one small, happy coincidence gave them a lifetime together, it gave me and my older sister, Jenelle, a loving family, and then later, it gave us all Jessica.

Di had this incredible way of making the ordinary feel special. Like making sure her and my dad could attend any and all extra-curricular event that their children would participate in, or going out and buying little gifts for her grandbabies when they would visit — gifts for my girls, Thea and Margot, and for Jessica and Joel's kids, Kalea, Teigan, Jaylee, and Jace — or hanging out in her living room telling you that she is sleepy but will continue to chit-chat and sip on cocktails with you until 1am in the morning, or simply making sure her home was prepared and welcoming for any occasion.

She also had a way of making the extraordinary even MORE amazing, like her warmth and love she shared for Heather and Joel as they became a part of our family, or being there for anyone she loved needing the support of a good friend.

All these were not always grand gestures, but they were all her. They were all love in its purest form.

She taught me what it means to be resilient, to be kind, and to love fiercely, as well as how to make a very strong vodka cran that she would sip and say "hooochi-mama" to.

The world is a much brighter place because she was in it. The lessons she taught, the love she gave, and the memories we all share—that is her legacy. That's how she lives on, in all of us.

Mom, thank you for everything. Thank you for your love, your laughter, and your light. We are all better for having known you. We will miss you more than words can say, but we will carry you in our hearts forever.

We love you, Mom. Read less

Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you all for being here with us today to celebrate the life of the mother of Jessica, Jenelle, and me / Grami Di/ Mimi/ William's beloved wife/ miss "what are you doing in this bar, you are under-aged" / Dianna Cottriel.

As many of you well know, Di was the life of any event. She would usually rock some sort of cheetah or leopard print piece of clothing or accessory, and would always come prepared to have a good time. That is what today is meant to be, a reminder... Read more that you should always do your best to make the most of any situation, whether is it a joyous occasion, or something less ideal.

As a child, I was blessed to have a father as great as my dad. And he'd be the first to tell you he was the lucky one... though his luck started with him being just a little bit clueless, in the best possible way. Their love story, like my mom, was one-of-a-kind. It started in a bar where my mom was, let's just say, not quite old enough to be there, but you wouldn't know that if you looked at the ID she borrowed from her older sister that night. She was eager to have a wonderful time out with her girlfriends, not realizing that she was about to meet the man she would spend the rest of her life with. I am so blessed that my dad didn't notice—or at least pretended not to. That one small, happy coincidence gave them a lifetime together, it gave me and my older sister, Jenelle, a loving family, and then later, it gave us all Jessica.

Di had this incredible way of making the ordinary feel special. Like making sure her and my dad could attend any and all extra-curricular event that their children would participate in, or going out and buying little gifts for her grandbabies when they would visit — gifts for my girls, Thea and Margot, and for Jessica and Joel's kids, Kalea, Teigan, Jaylee, and Jace — or hanging out in her living room telling you that she is sleepy but will continue to chit-chat and sip on cocktails with you until 1am in the morning, or simply making sure her home was prepared and welcoming for any occasion.

She also had a way of making the extraordinary even MORE amazing, like her warmth and love she shared for Heather and Joel as they became a part of our family, or being there for anyone she loved needing the support of a good friend.

All these were not always grand gestures, but they were all her. They were all love in its purest form.

She taught me what it means to be resilient, to be kind, and to love fiercely, as well as how to make a very strong vodka cran that she would sip and say "hooochi-mama" to.

The world is a much brighter place because she was in it. The lessons she taught, the love she gave, and the memories we all share—that is her legacy. That's how she lives on, in all of us.

Mom, thank you for everything. Thank you for your love, your laughter, and your light. We are all better for having known you. We will miss you more than words can say, but we will carry you in our hearts forever.

We love you, Mom. Read less

AFTERGLOW
I’d like the memory of me to be a happy one.
I’d like to leave an afterglow of smiles when life is done.
I’d like to leave an echo whispering softly down the ways,
Of happy times and laughing times and bright and sunny days.
I’d like the tears of those who grieve, to dry before the sun;
Of happy memories that I leave when life is done.
Author Unknown

AFTERGLOW
I’d like the memory of me to be a happy one.
I’d like to leave an afterglow of smiles when life is done.
I’d like to leave an echo whispering softly down the ways,
Of happy times and laughing times and bright and sunny days.
I’d like the tears of those who grieve, to dry before the sun;
Of happy memories that I leave when life is done.
Author Unknown

The White Chariot
During your journey on your final flight home.
White wings will carry you and you will be flown.
To the pearly gates of Heaven, where they will usher you in.
To the feet of your Lord, your Saviour, and your friend.
He will hold you in his arms and the angels will sing.
As another one of His children is delivered by white wings.
Author: Julie Johnson

The White Chariot
During your journey on your final flight home.
White wings will carry you and you will be flown.
To the pearly gates of Heaven, where they will usher you in.
To the feet of your Lord, your Saviour, and your friend.
He will hold you in his arms and the angels will sing.
As another one of His children is delivered by white wings.
Author: Julie Johnson