Eulogy for Prudence Mons

JENNIFER MONS ANDERSON
We gather here today to celebrate the incredible life of Prudence Mons—a woman who was a mother, a wife, a daughter, a grandmother and a friend, and the very heart of our family.
Prudence was born on May 18, 1959, to William and Ora Vanderveer. As the third child, she entered the world with a joy that never faded. My grandparents would often say that she was the glue of the family—the one who brought people together, who made every gathering brighter, and who carried happiness in her heart wherever she went.

She was a talented student and a gifted athlete, excelling in both academics and track. But her true passion was art, a love she pursued at the University of South Florida. It was there, at just 19 years old, that she met the love of her life—my father.

Of all the roles my mother played, being a mom was where she truly shined. She didn’t just love being a mother—she lived for it. She made our childhood magical. No holiday ... Read morewent uncelebrated, no school event was overlooked, and no challenge was faced alone. She was the mom who made sure every costume was perfect, every birthday was special, and every single day we felt completely loved. She truly was a super mom.

She created a home that wasn’t just a place to live—it was a place where everyone wanted to be. It was filled with laughter, warmth, and creativity. She was our biggest supporter, our loudest cheerleader, and the person who would drop everything to make sure we had what we needed.
She was the mom who bought a pickup truck just so she could tow a horse trailer for my riding events. She was the mom on the sidelines at every game. And she was the mom who, if you wanted to get your belly button pierced, would probably go ahead and get hers done too—just to share the moment with you.

But my mother wasn’t just devoted to her family—she was devoted to life itself. She had a way of making everyone feel special. She could strike up a conversation with anyone, and within minutes, she would know their whole life story. She didn’t just talk to people—she connected with them. Her kindness, her warmth, and her ability to make people feel seen and heard were among her greatest gifts.

She balanced everything—our home, our family, her career—with effortless grace. And somehow, she did it all while making it look easy. She was the kind of mother, daughter, and friend who set the bar high, and even now, she continues to inspire me to be better every single day.

And of course, she was effortlessly beautiful. She could pull off any hair cut or color and as you can see from the photos, she did try them all. She never needed make up and everything she put on looked amazing on her. I blame her for the fact that I didn’t learn to pluck my eyebrows or put on makeup until I went to college.

My mom was special—truly, deeply special. We were all so incredibly blessed to have been touched by her light, even if our time with her feels far too short.

Losing her has left a space that can never truly be filled. But I find comfort in knowing that she gave us so much love that it will last a lifetime. She lives on in the lessons she taught us, in the love she shared, and in the way we choose to carry her spirit forward.

There’s a saying that God takes the special ones early, and when I think of my mother, that has never felt more true.

Mom, you were our everything, and your love will forever guide us. Thank you for being the extraordinary person you were. We will carry you with us always.


ROBERT MONS III
I think they both equally regretted the belly button piercing.

First, I want to thank you all for being here today to honor and celebrate the life of my mother, Prudence Mons. Seeing all of you here is a testament to the love, kindness, and impact she had on so many lives. It is both heartbreaking and humbling to stand here and try to put into words what she meant to me, to my family, and to everyone who had the privilege of knowing her.

My mother was a force of nature—in the way she loved, served, and lifted others up. She had a heart that never hesitated to give, a mind that never stopped learning, and a spirit that refused to break, no matter the challenge. She faced life with grace, humor, and an unwavering belief in the goodness of people.

My mother had four kids, and we were her entire heart and soul. She didn’t just love us—she lived for us.

She was the kind of mother whose support wasn’t just heard—it was felt. She poured her heart into everything we did, and nowhere was that more evident than when she watched us compete. She loved watching us play sports, not just as a spectator, but as someone fully invested in every moment, every play, every victory, and every setback.

Her energy was undeniable. You could feel it from the sidelines, radiating through the crowd, lifting us up when we were tired, pushing us forward when we doubted ourselves, and celebrating us, not just for winning “because we did a lot of that”, but for giving everything we had. She didn’t just encourage us—she believed in us so deeply that it became impossible not to believe in ourselves.
That was Mom in a nutshell—she didn’t believe in waiting for moments, she created them.

For 15 years, she fought a battle against Primary Progressive Aphasia, a cruel and relentless disease. But she never let it define her. She didn’t complain. She didn’t surrender. Instead, she defied every expectation, every limitation, and every medical prognosis. Even as words became harder to find, her presence spoke volumes. Even as the disease tried to take pieces of her away, her soul, her strength, and her love only grew stronger. She was proof that true strength isn’t about how much you can carry—it’s about how much you can endure with grace.

I have never been prouder of my mother than I was during those years. She was fearless, she was resilient, and she was extraordinary. As Seneca once said, "Sometimes even to live is an act of courage." My mother’s courage wasn’t just in how she fought—it was in how she lived. She never let hardship harden her heart. Instead, she lived each day with gratitude, with kindness, and with an unshakable faith in the goodness of life.

She showed us that love is not measured in words, but in presence and devotion. She showed us that true faith is not the absence of hardship, but the belief that even in the struggle, there is purpose. One’s legacy matters more than the length of one’s life. She lived fully, she loved completely, and she left this world having made an impact that will last forever.

It is impossible to sum up her life in a few short minutes, because her impact cannot be measured—it can only be felt. And while the weight of losing her is unbearable, I take comfort in knowing that she is not truly gone. I stand here today, not just in grief, but in gratitude.

I am grateful for every hug, every laugh, every lesson she ever gave me.
I am grateful for her unwavering faith, which taught me that even in the darkest times, there is purpose. I am grateful for the strength she instilled in me, the virtues she embodied, and the resilience she showed in every moment of her life.

She blessed me beyond measure, and though losing her is one of the hardest things I will ever face, I know that her love was never meant to stay in one place—it was meant to be carried forward.
For years, I took credit for her work—my dioramas, science projects, basically all my homework. Now, it’s my turn to build something impactful, to prevent disease and change lives—and this time,

Mom, I promise you get all the credit.
Mom, I love you. Endlessly. Unconditionally. Eternally. You gave me everything I needed to become the person I am today, and I will carry you with me in every decision, every challenge, and every act of love I extend to the world.

You taught me that life is short, spectacular, and limitless. That our impact is boundless, and that we should live with gratitude, purpose, and urgency.

Your work here is done, but your story is not over. You live on in all of us, in the lives you touched, in the love you gave, and in the promise we will keep honoring your legacy.

As you take your place in the eternal, free from suffering, free from pain, I know you are at peace.

Rest now, Mom. Your love will never fade. Read less

Eulogy for Prudence Mons

JENNIFER MONS ANDERSON
We gather here today to celebrate the incredible life of Prudence Mons—a woman who was a mother, a wife, a daughter, a grandmother and a friend, and the very heart of our family.
Prudence was born on May 18, 1959, to William and Ora Vanderveer. As the third child, she entered the world with a joy that never faded. My grandparents would often say that she was the glue of the family—the one who brought people together, who made every gathering brighter,... Read more and who carried happiness in her heart wherever she went.

She was a talented student and a gifted athlete, excelling in both academics and track. But her true passion was art, a love she pursued at the University of South Florida. It was there, at just 19 years old, that she met the love of her life—my father.

Of all the roles my mother played, being a mom was where she truly shined. She didn’t just love being a mother—she lived for it. She made our childhood magical. No holiday went uncelebrated, no school event was overlooked, and no challenge was faced alone. She was the mom who made sure every costume was perfect, every birthday was special, and every single day we felt completely loved. She truly was a super mom.

She created a home that wasn’t just a place to live—it was a place where everyone wanted to be. It was filled with laughter, warmth, and creativity. She was our biggest supporter, our loudest cheerleader, and the person who would drop everything to make sure we had what we needed.
She was the mom who bought a pickup truck just so she could tow a horse trailer for my riding events. She was the mom on the sidelines at every game. And she was the mom who, if you wanted to get your belly button pierced, would probably go ahead and get hers done too—just to share the moment with you.

But my mother wasn’t just devoted to her family—she was devoted to life itself. She had a way of making everyone feel special. She could strike up a conversation with anyone, and within minutes, she would know their whole life story. She didn’t just talk to people—she connected with them. Her kindness, her warmth, and her ability to make people feel seen and heard were among her greatest gifts.

She balanced everything—our home, our family, her career—with effortless grace. And somehow, she did it all while making it look easy. She was the kind of mother, daughter, and friend who set the bar high, and even now, she continues to inspire me to be better every single day.

And of course, she was effortlessly beautiful. She could pull off any hair cut or color and as you can see from the photos, she did try them all. She never needed make up and everything she put on looked amazing on her. I blame her for the fact that I didn’t learn to pluck my eyebrows or put on makeup until I went to college.

My mom was special—truly, deeply special. We were all so incredibly blessed to have been touched by her light, even if our time with her feels far too short.

Losing her has left a space that can never truly be filled. But I find comfort in knowing that she gave us so much love that it will last a lifetime. She lives on in the lessons she taught us, in the love she shared, and in the way we choose to carry her spirit forward.

There’s a saying that God takes the special ones early, and when I think of my mother, that has never felt more true.

Mom, you were our everything, and your love will forever guide us. Thank you for being the extraordinary person you were. We will carry you with us always.


ROBERT MONS III
I think they both equally regretted the belly button piercing.

First, I want to thank you all for being here today to honor and celebrate the life of my mother, Prudence Mons. Seeing all of you here is a testament to the love, kindness, and impact she had on so many lives. It is both heartbreaking and humbling to stand here and try to put into words what she meant to me, to my family, and to everyone who had the privilege of knowing her.

My mother was a force of nature—in the way she loved, served, and lifted others up. She had a heart that never hesitated to give, a mind that never stopped learning, and a spirit that refused to break, no matter the challenge. She faced life with grace, humor, and an unwavering belief in the goodness of people.

My mother had four kids, and we were her entire heart and soul. She didn’t just love us—she lived for us.

She was the kind of mother whose support wasn’t just heard—it was felt. She poured her heart into everything we did, and nowhere was that more evident than when she watched us compete. She loved watching us play sports, not just as a spectator, but as someone fully invested in every moment, every play, every victory, and every setback.

Her energy was undeniable. You could feel it from the sidelines, radiating through the crowd, lifting us up when we were tired, pushing us forward when we doubted ourselves, and celebrating us, not just for winning “because we did a lot of that”, but for giving everything we had. She didn’t just encourage us—she believed in us so deeply that it became impossible not to believe in ourselves.
That was Mom in a nutshell—she didn’t believe in waiting for moments, she created them.

For 15 years, she fought a battle against Primary Progressive Aphasia, a cruel and relentless disease. But she never let it define her. She didn’t complain. She didn’t surrender. Instead, she defied every expectation, every limitation, and every medical prognosis. Even as words became harder to find, her presence spoke volumes. Even as the disease tried to take pieces of her away, her soul, her strength, and her love only grew stronger. She was proof that true strength isn’t about how much you can carry—it’s about how much you can endure with grace.

I have never been prouder of my mother than I was during those years. She was fearless, she was resilient, and she was extraordinary. As Seneca once said, "Sometimes even to live is an act of courage." My mother’s courage wasn’t just in how she fought—it was in how she lived. She never let hardship harden her heart. Instead, she lived each day with gratitude, with kindness, and with an unshakable faith in the goodness of life.

She showed us that love is not measured in words, but in presence and devotion. She showed us that true faith is not the absence of hardship, but the belief that even in the struggle, there is purpose. One’s legacy matters more than the length of one’s life. She lived fully, she loved completely, and she left this world having made an impact that will last forever.

It is impossible to sum up her life in a few short minutes, because her impact cannot be measured—it can only be felt. And while the weight of losing her is unbearable, I take comfort in knowing that she is not truly gone. I stand here today, not just in grief, but in gratitude.

I am grateful for every hug, every laugh, every lesson she ever gave me.
I am grateful for her unwavering faith, which taught me that even in the darkest times, there is purpose. I am grateful for the strength she instilled in me, the virtues she embodied, and the resilience she showed in every moment of her life.

She blessed me beyond measure, and though losing her is one of the hardest things I will ever face, I know that her love was never meant to stay in one place—it was meant to be carried forward.
For years, I took credit for her work—my dioramas, science projects, basically all my homework. Now, it’s my turn to build something impactful, to prevent disease and change lives—and this time,

Mom, I promise you get all the credit.
Mom, I love you. Endlessly. Unconditionally. Eternally. You gave me everything I needed to become the person I am today, and I will carry you with me in every decision, every challenge, and every act of love I extend to the world.

You taught me that life is short, spectacular, and limitless. That our impact is boundless, and that we should live with gratitude, purpose, and urgency.

Your work here is done, but your story is not over. You live on in all of us, in the lives you touched, in the love you gave, and in the promise we will keep honoring your legacy.

As you take your place in the eternal, free from suffering, free from pain, I know you are at peace.

Rest now, Mom. Your love will never fade. Read less