Anyone who knew Julie well knew her smile. It didn't take much effort to make her happy, the sound of a squeaky carrot toy or the clang of pots and pans while dinner was being prepared. The cry of a baby or even the ringing of the telephone could all send Jule into fits of laughter.

      It has been said that music touched the soul, and I know it is true because it touched Jule. Countless music boxes and musical toys given as gifts filled her home. She smiled her widest smile when we sang her "Julie" song. And anyone who ventured to a mass the Wassmann's attended can appreciate Julie's affinity for the church choir. Yes, Julie loved music and perhaps what I'll remember most is her "La La La" song she sang regularly. When we lost someone that we cherish we tend to wonder why. What was the purpose for this? Although we may not have all the answers, there are some things we can take from having known Jule. Live purely, love completely, be content no matter where you find yourself and at all times keep joy in your heart.

      In closing, I would like to share one final memory of Julie. Something that made her happier than anything else, except being in her mother's arms, and that was being at home. She knew the smell of her home, the sounds and the peace that was contained there. She so loved to be home that every time the forest green mini van turned onto Pontiac Avenue, Julie would squeal with delight and anticipation because she knew she would soon be there. Well Julie, your home now. You are surrounded by such a profound love and peace that we can only begin to imagine. And one day, with God's grace, we will all be there with you. We love you, Julia.