The world lost some of its warmth and sparkle with the passing of Ingrid L. Powers – just a few days shy of her 91st birthday.  She passed away with family by her side at “the castle” – her term of endearment for an older and drafty home on a hill that she loved to visit; she had a wonderful view across Lake Washington to Bellevue, the town that she called home for the past fifty years.  Ingrid is survived by her daughter Sabrina Powers (Jeff Bash) and son Sean Powers, who will need to figure out how to fill the void left by such a fierce love.

Born in 1933 Berlin, Germany, Ingrid was largely raised by her mother Elisabeth Schroeder, after her father succumbed to the effects of war.  Her mother (or “Mutti” in German) took great pains to protect Ingrid during a chaotic time, and the indomitable spirit of a mischievous child was allowed to flourish even as she sheltered underground from air raids and was moved to other parts of the country for safety.

After the war, Ingrid thrived in the company of very close friends, a group that enjoyed dancing as much as exchanging ideas in their parents’ informal literary salons.  And though you might not guess it by her 5’2” (and ¾!) stature – a height she regarded as an oversight on someone’s part – Ingrid won a bronze medal in the Junior Olympics for hurdles.  She even enjoyed an early taste of the democratic process, being voted class president.

In the mid-1950s, the iconic Pan American Airways came to a blockaded West Berlin looking for German-speakers to staff their international routes.  Always up for an adventure, Ingrid applied with some of her peers; she and one of her closest friends made the cut.  So, at the relatively tender age of 24, Ingrid moved to New York City – an ocean, a culture and a language away.  From there, she saw the world. Memories of the Taj Mahal, Turkish bazaars, Victoria Falls, and the moon’s reflection on an airplane’s silver wing helped fuel her for the rest of her life.  She loved being in motion and learning new things, whether it was other cultures or natural wonders.

Eventually, Ingrid moved to San Francisco where she left her heart – falling in love with a Pan American pilot and starting a family in Belvedere, CA.  With great reluctance, they traded these idyllic surroundings for the intracoastal of Boca Raton, FL – where Sabrina gave begrudging approval to the arrival of her younger brother/doll dismantler extraordinaire, Sean.  But after only a few years, they brought the corporation to the friendlier climate of the Pacific Northwest, Ingrid choosing Bellevue, WA for her children to spend their formative years.

While Ingrid’s dream of an idyllic home life did not unfold as she had hoped, the love she had for her children never wavered and only grew stronger with every day.  As life does, it presented her with innumerable happy moments, but also with serious challenges.  Without fail, though, she met each and every one with an understated resolve to not just persevere but to create happiness for those she loved.  Rather than obstacles, the losses and difficulties were merely new circumstances that needed to be worked through; nothing was going to keep her from what she knew needed to be done, whether that was making sure Sean had a full breakfast before school or staying up until the early morning hours to hem Sabrina’s new Gunne Sax dress.  The elegance, humor and mischievous twinkle in her eyes belied a toughness born out of love that cannot be overstated.  When told by her family how much they love and respect her, she occasionally asked “Why?”  Her family would then remind her of everything that she had done for them over the course of their lives – and she would simply respond “But I am your mother.”

Through it all, humor was her saving grace.  She often reminded Sabrina and Sean of the importance of being able to laugh not just at life, but also at oneself.  Always curious, she was a voracious reader and a lover of animals.  She understood them not just as creatures, but as beings – with thoughts, emotions, and souls.  On her dinner plate, one could always find a small pile of morsels that were destined for a nearby dog snout.  And, well into her eighth decade, Ingrid travelled by bus into Seattle three times a week to ‘nanny’ her four-legged ‘grandchildren’, Attie and Hazie.  “Omi” (German for grandmother) made their canine lives so rich with love, games and treats.

To know Ingrid was to be taken in by her charm, warmth and love.  If she loved you, you could feel it.  And it was genuine.

It took some 80 years for her stubborn kids (the apples didn’t fall far from the tree) to finally begin referring to her as their “Mutti” – a title and a calling that meant so much to her.  But it was hard to know who was more proud of that term – Ingrid, or her children.

She will be sorely missed by everyone in her orbit – and by skilled butter producers all over Ireland. Now it is your turn to “have a happy day” every day, Mutti.