Yvonne, you are and forever will be part of the Nees and Brown Families.  Your love friendship and dedication to our families have touched our hearts and lives in unforgettable ways. You gave us our start in selecting the best home to start our families and for that we will be forever grateful. But more importantly thank you for sharing your life and family with us.  I’d rather have one minute of Yvonne than never having the pleasure of knowing of your wonderful spirit. You made our lives BETTER in every way. You are now with family and we are happy for you as we celebrate your extraordinary life accomplishments. We do hope part of that family that you are with us part of the old gang…Dad George, Charlie, Bob and Diane and the rest of the Crew. We hope you’re having a great martini with all of us always and forever. And I believe that we still owe you a Salmon dinner when you let our son William sit on your lap at age two and absconded with your lovely dinner with you laughing the whole time. That’s how wonderful of a person you truly are.  Yvonne you were and are a wonderful classy and beautiful Lady that we will always be remembered and our prayers are always with you and for JP and family. Until we meet again Yvonne..God Bless and Godspeed! We will always love you beyond the span of time and universe. Love JD Dorothy and William Nees and Leeann Brown. ❤️🙏

Celebrating the LIFE of the woman who gave my husband his.

Death is always a complicated transition and this time was no different.

There is no right way to behave or feel because so many different emotions come up especially when the relationship was layered and complicated.

Pearl Yvonne was one of the funniest people I'd ever met. Everyone who knew her has shared an anecdote or two of a time she helped them feel protected, loved and supported. It's been really special to hear and celebrate.

She and I always bonded over plants, interior design and real estate. Oh, and thinking her son is awesome!

She told me how much she appreciated my relationship with JP and that she'd never seen him so happy. I'm also beyond grateful that we got to see her become a grandmother even though it was close to the time of her passing, it was beautiful for us all. I intend to forever honor her with a continued effort of happiness and support, trying to be the type of person remembered fondly for being so kind and helpful when the opportunity is presented.

• Rest in peace, Gramma Vonnie 🕊️🌵

I have fond memories of Yvonne hanging out with my parents in Alamo. She would always have a seat at the kitchen bar, and everyone always wanted the seat next to hers. It was like musical chairs - when you saw that seat empty you had to dive on it so you could soak up a little bit of Yvonne’s sunshine. She had the best jokes. Her laugh was contagious. She would look me in the eye when I talked to her; and she could so easily transition from a dirty joke to a deep topic about life, love, and choices. I will continue to enjoy the stories my mom tells us about Yvonne and Grandma Genie. 

And … WOW! This portrait of Yvonne is stunning. What a jaw-dropping, classic beauty. 

I claim to be a member of Yvonne’s family. I am not related by blood, but by spirit. Yvonne was best friends with my mother and father, Genie and James Griffiths, and was a part of my life for as long as I can remember.

My earliest memories from the early 1960’s included driving with Yvonne in her Jaguar XKE convertible with the music turned up loud, and a long silk scarf draped over her platinum hair and flowing behind her. Yes, Yvonne always loved good-style, fast cars and loud music.

In later years, Yvonne helped me navigate many of my life challenges like the passing of my parents, divorce, and career changes. Yvonne even helped me embrace her own impending death by sharing her faith and helping me accept loss. She was so smart. She could always see my path forward, even when it was unclear to me.

Yvonne is, and always will be, my guiding angel. 

This isn’t so much a story about my mom, as it is a story about the impressions she left on people - impressions they carried with them for years.

Back in 1993, I was starting my senior year at Monte Vista High. To say I was an average student would be generous. I never really took school seriously, and it showed - in both my grades and my attitude. 🙂

I had saved my last foreign language requirement for senior year and got assigned to a teacher named Señor Leboux (not sure if I’m spelling that right, but close enough). From day one, I couldn’t stand him. He was the kind of teacher who played favorites, who you knew was there for the paycheck, not because he cared about teaching. He only put effort into the kids who were easy to teach - and I was not one of them.

About three weeks in, I stuck around after class with a question while he was talking to another student. When he noticed me waiting, he stopped mid-conversation, took off his glasses slowly, and looked me up and down. I happened to be wearing a Stanford sweatshirt that day, and he said:

• “JP, what are you doing here? You couldn’t possibly have a question for me. Let’s be honest - you’re not going to Stanford, you’re not going to Harvard, you’ll be lucky if you pass this class or even graduate. So what on earth could I possibly help you with?”

I didn’t say a word. I just turned around, walked out of his classroom, and headed straight to the principal’s office. I asked if there was any way I could transfer into another Spanish class, and it turned out there was one opening - with a teacher named Señor Galton.

So I walked into Mr. Galton’s classroom and explained I wanted to transfer out of Leboux’s class because of our “poor relationship.” His response was blunt:

• “Now, why would I want to transfer you into my classroom when you’re obviously having issues with a colleague I respect?”

But then he glanced at my transfer papers and noticed my last name.

• “Wait a minute - your mom wouldn’t be Yvonne Given, would she?”

I told him yes, that was my mom. His whole tone changed. He leaned back, smiled, and asked how she was doing. Turns out, my mom had been his and his wife’s real estate agent when they bought their very first home almost 20 years earlier - the same home they were still living in. He remembered her fondly and said she had made such a lasting impression on them. If I was her son, he said, I couldn’t possibly be the problem Leboux thought I was.

And just like that, he signed the papers. I transferred into his class, and I ended up having a great time in Spanish that year.

If my mom hadn’t been his real estate agent all those years ago, I probably would have had a miserable senior year fighting an uphill battle with Leboux. Instead, I landed in a classroom where I could actually learn - and feel respected.

Thanks for being an awesome real estate agent, Mom.