Constance Marie Reed

Beloved wife of Robert Reed; Loving mother of Denise (Timothy) Klein, Jay Cady, Colleen (Walter) Huff, Joel (Brenda) Cady and Grace McKay (fiance Paholo Reinoso); Dear Nana of Beth (Joe), JJ, Allie (fiance James), Krissy, Jack, Emma, Raistlin, Perrin, Cassie, Samantha and Jessica; Great grandmother of Henry and Paul; Dear sister of Glen (Nancy), Kenneth (late Maryann), Bruce (Sandy), David (Marie), Michael Blackburn, Cherie (Dale) Zdrojewski; Also survived by many nieces, nephews and cousins. Family will be present to receive friends on Tuesday November 26 from 3-7PM at the PERNA, DENGLER, ROBERTS FUNERAL HOME, 1671 Maple Road, Williamsville. Family and friends are invited to attend A Mass of Christian Burial celebrated from St. John The Baptist Church (1085 Englewood Ave,Kenmore) Wednesday at 10:45AM followed by Interment at Mt. Olivet Cemetery. Please share online condolences at www.denglerrobertspernawilliamsville.com

Joel’s tribute

Connie, Constance, Conskins, Condog, Con, Nana, Grandma and Mom—these are just a few of the many names people used to express their love for my mom. As I tried to figure out how to sum up such an incredible life in an impossibly short amount of time, I quickly realized that I couldn’t. And with Colleen speaking next, we want to make sure everyone gets home in time for Thanksgiving.

But then it struck me: home. That’s what my mom was—home.

Home has 3 different different definitions. The first is "the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family." The second is "an institution for people needing professional care or supervision," which, let’s be honest, was something us kids, grandkids, brothers, sisters, friends and Rob all needed at one point or another. And 3rd It's the intangible feeling you get in a location, a sense of peace and joy from loved ones or an environment where everyone knows they're welcome.

Home—that’s what my mom was, is, and always will be.

Rest in peace, Mom. Play a card game with Grandma for everyone here, and know that we will all carry forward the sense of home you gave us. Just as you taught us, we’ll continue to be a home for one another.

Colleen’s part-read at funeral:

Thank you for being here to celebrate the life of my Mom, Connie Reed—or as she was officially known, Constance Marie Blackburn. But to us, she was so much more than a name. She was a daughter, sister, wife, mother, Nana, great-Nana, aunt, and friend. Words like warm, loving, devoted, intelligent, tenacious, creative, caring, sassy, and accepting barely scratch the surface.

She was irreplaceable.

Mom was born on December 20th, 1943, in Tonawanda, NY, to Glen and Dorothy Blackburn. She was the third of seven children—yes, I said seven. Glen, Ken, Bruce, Cheri, David, and Michael made up the Blackburn household. Her life was filled with love, laughter, and lots of work. She often helped in my Grandpa Blackburn's restaurant, Clydes, where she learned to cook and run a kitchen—a skill she carried with her throughout her life.

In her own words, Mom was a tomboy. With 5 brothers she didn’t have much time for baby dolls or girly things. Instead, she developed grit and resilience, a necessary defense against all the pranks her brothers threw at “Conskins” and Aunt Cheri.

After graduating from Mount St. Mary’s, she married John Cady, and together they had four children—Denise, Jay, Joel, and me, Colleen. Becoming a mother was her calling. She not only cared for us but also taught us the value of service. She volunteered with the Girl Scouts, CYO, Marriage Encounter, and English as a Second Language, among others. She made time to teach, nurture, and give back, always showing us that love means showing up for others.

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When I was in middle school Mom began to work at Millard Fillmore admissions department, where she became lifelong friends and eventually sister in law to Terri Hallock who would introduced her to Robert Reed, her loving husband of 32 years. From there her career took her into the new world of computers. She was proud of her work of converting medical practices and hospitals from paper chart systems to being computerized. It was ground breaking work in the late 80’s early 90’s when computers were so new.

Family was everything to Mom, and she gave us a childhood full of laughter and memories. Fourth of Julys were spent at Long Beach, where we swam and my oldest brother got to shoot off fireworks-legally. Summers meant boating on the Niagara River—a shared passion of Mom and Rob’s. I still remember her determination to learn how to dock the boat like a pro. And winters were for skiing trips with Uncle Ken or family adventures with Joel and Rob to the slopes.

As we talked about Mom in these past few days, one story came to mind for me I think perfectly captures her essence as a mother. When my older siblings went off to school, I desperately wanted to go with them. To comfort me, Mom would curl up on the couch with me to watch Sesame Street. For years, I cherished that as “our time.” But recently, Mom said to me, “Denise—uh, I mean, Colleen (Mom mixed up our names a lot as many mother’s do) —I was napping! I had three small kids, and I was exhausted!” Looking back, I understand completely. But to little me, all I felt was the safety of her arms. That was Mom—comfort and love wrapped in every moment.

But above all, Mom taught us what mattered most. My sister Denise said it best: “She taught us how to be a mom.” She showed us that love means making sacrifices—like spending grocery money to take the kids to the fair, even if it meant mac and cheese for dinner twice that week. Memories matter. Time together matters. And at the end of our lives, those memories are what we hold closest.

Mom also had a great sense of humor which I believe was needed while raising 4 children. She was strict when she needed to be but , my brothers could always get her laughing when we were in trouble. In fact there were many times that Denise and I would send Jay in first when we knew we may be in trouble because he could always make her laugh and forget what we had done. She was known for threatening my oldest brother with a wooden spoon when he was misbehaving- but was more known to hug and kiss us than anything else.

Mom had many things she enjoyed in life.. There was not a cheese she met that she did not like. Coffee was a main staple in my Moms life for years. I & many grandkids became hooked at a young age due to her influence. Her peanut butter cookies are infamous (even though the “favorite son” Jay was the only one she baked them for in her later years!) And then there were the lists. Mom had a list for everything. Even a list of her lists.

Her grandkids could always relies on her for Tim Bits when she visited.(even at dinner time) And it was HER RULES when the Grand Kids were at her house. My mother was also a fashion consultant per her granddaughters. The first time I wore a dress without nylons I was waiting for her to call and yell at me! She spoiled everyone and that included the dogs. She was always feeding her dogs under the table or from her chair. She would then ask why they were begging but would continue to feed them because “they looked hungry”.

Mom always enjoyed a good card game. Rummy was her favorite and she even had special card holders that made playing easier. Many nights were spent around the dining room table playing cards. (after we moved the pile of “stuff” on ½ the table. Holidays were always special- especially as she kept the Christmas Eve tradition going after Gramma Blackburn passed. And guys-we will still all have to sing Christmas carols before gifts will be passed out. That is one tradition that will NEVER go away.

Mom was a fighter, too. At age 58, she had a stroke, followed by a pacemaker and other health challenges. But her “limited time” diagnosis turned into another 23 years—long enough to meet her 11 grandchildren and 2 great-grandchildren who will forever remember their Nana. Her resilience was incredible, and it gave us so many more years of memories to hold on to.

And on a special note to Rob – your care of our mother over the last few difficult years has been amazing. You have loved her unconditionally for 32 years and we know these last few have been very difficult. Thank you

As I stand here today, I know she’s at peace. I imagine her in heaven, playing cards with Grandma Blackburn and Jason, sipping coffee, and sneaking some cheese. Her pain is gone, and she’s watching over us now, forever in our hearts.

Mom, we love you. We promise to keep your traditions alive, to cherish the time we have with one another, and yes—we’ll even put on a sweater because you’re cold.

And one last thing—Mom, Joel is picking on me again.

Jay eulogy (closing tribute at cemetery)

This past Sunday I went over to Mom and Rob’s house to search for their wedding album.

We needed those images for her memorial, but I couldn’t find them on any bookshelf.

I was emotionally exhausted, and increasingly frustrated as I started searching through some of Mom’s notorious piles of paper.

Why did she keep so much stuff?

In desperation, I started searching desk and dresser drawers.

That’s when I found it.

Not the images I was seeking, but what Mom wanted me to find:

… Every letter we wrote to santa had been saved. Tucked safely under some clothes;

… countless crayon pictures from grandchildren, still warmly embraced by her sweaters;

… cards from Rob and small mentos from their travels;

… even a box of letters preserving EVERY note from her children. (Including my 5 page dissertation explaining why I WAS not going out too much over college break and promising to spend more time with her and family in the future.)

… and of course I found the first chapters of the book she always said she was writing.

I always wondered why she never sat down and simply finished her tale about a mysterious lighthouse near Cape Cod.

And that’s when I smiled and sobbed as I finally realized what she was telling me.

She’s still working her book.

Because Mom is our lighthouse.

Her story lives on in each of us.