Ryan M Amundson
Sharon always made me feel welcome, even when I was up to shenanigans with Brian and Daniel. If I acted like a guest by knocking on the door, Sharon quickly put me in my place by insisting I just walk straight in. Sharon's hospitality was not the kind that you get at a fancy restraunt where the food might be extraordinary (although her cooking was indeed top notch) and the wine well curated (which, again, in fact was) but you are ever on your toes to act polite, be dressed to code, and take care not to spill any wine on the white linens that have been sharply laid out just for you. In other words, the kind of hospitality that never allows you to relax and feel at home. Rather, Sharon would invite me to get my own damn sandwich out of the oven because that is exactly what I would do at home. That sandwich, however, was better than what I got at home (don't tell my mom). Some sarcastic humor and well-placed ribbing would always help me settle in further. Years later, when I was used to making my own sandwiches, Sharon and Lauren literally made their home my home, and barely let me leave when I found an apartment of my own. When I leave this plane of existence I'm sure Sharon will be as welcoming (and lovingly sarcastic) to me as before when I come by to make more shenanigans and tomfoolery with Brian. In the meatime, miss you both.
