Flora Sullivan, after a brief illness, died at home on December 21, 2014, ten days shy of her 89th birthday. She died the way she’d always said she wanted to–at her home on her own terms. She never wanted to move and always said she wanted to “leave this house feet-first” and she did. Just based on her enthusiasm for life, she should have lived well past 100!Flora was born in Guatemala City, Guatemala, and attended The German School. She was immersed in German and learned to read, write, do math and science and even learned Spanish and English in a language that was foreign to her until her first day of school. Flora later attended business school in Guatemala City where she studied accounting. She was a skilled typist who competed in, and won, typing contests for her speed and accuracy. In 1944 Flora was recruited by the World Health Organization WHO to work as a translator. At the tender age of 20, in 1946, she transferred to the WHO office in Washington, DC. While with WHO, Flora’s desire to see the world was fulfilled as she traveled to medical conferences in South America and Europe, employing her language, shorthand and typing skills.One of Flora’s many passions was dancing. Soon after arriving in Washington, DC, she attended a dance in northwest Washington where she met Paul, who artfully maneuvered to be her dance partner multiple times, while dancing a “Paul Jones” a mixer designed to introduce new dance partners each time. Flora was frustrated by “this tall fellow” repeatedly appearing before her; but his maneuvering paid off when, three years later, they married at St. Matthew’s Cathedral. At that time Flora couldn’t even boil water. She ate every meal out from the time she came to Washington until the day she married Paul. Paul taught Flora basic cooking and, after that, they taught each other and shared new recipes and techniques throughout their marriage. Flora was an excellent cook, known to go through phases, such as bread-baking or making paella for two months straight—never to do either again.After she married, Flora continued to work and travel with the WHO until the birth of her third child in 1954. To maintain her typing skills and keep up with current technology, such as electric and memory typewriters, she started an at-home typing business, while caring for her six children who were under the age of seven. Flora’s clientele at that time were graduate students and PhD candidates from Catholic, American and George Washington Universities. Flora found the work stimulating and educational. And single men coming and going from the house at all hours may have caused excitement in the neighborhood as well. She and Paul often chuckled about how it must have appeared.Flora and Paul shared a love of languages. They loved wordplay yet, while Flora was an excellent grammarian, she managed to mangle idioms regularly. Here are a few, straight from Flora: “The straw that killed the camel,” “That ship has sunk,” and “Belt up.” It is akin to buckling down. She loved to laugh and enjoyed laughing at herself just the same. She and her brother, Mario, loved to share jokes. Sometimes he would call, they would speak and laugh for ten minutes and, when she hung up, she would be unable to tell you any news of Guatemala—he had called only to tell jokes.Flora and Paul were opposites in many ways but one trait they strongly shared was humanitarianism, and they took seriously the Christian doctrine of caring for one’s brethren. From pressing a civil rights case to the U.S. Supreme Court, to making sure employment taxes were paid for Martha a family friend who helped raise the Sullivan children and helped Flora keep house for over thirty years, they actively promoted human welfare and social reform. In the same spirit, they hosted dinner parties, entertained friends and family, and welcomed foreign exchange students and visiting missionaries into their home. Flora often described their home as “like Grand Central Station, with people always coming and going.” No one was a stranger to either Flora or Paul, and they invited people they’d just met to share meals at holidays and on other occasions with the Sullivan family. Flora treated everyone she met with the same high level of respect and dignity, without regard for one’s position in life. She looked everyone in the eye and never looked past or through anyone, be it a homeless person or someone providing a service to her. If there were words to describe Flora and Paul, they would be “compassionate, inclusive, and generous.”Flora and Paul were active church members, both taught CCD, and Flora volunteered as a “Room Mother” at St. Louis Catholic School when their children were enrolled. Flora had amazing energy and ambition and never wanted to be fully dependent on Paul for financial support hence, her typing business. One Christmas season she and several women from the neighborhood got temporary jobs with the U.S. Postal Service, working the midnight-to-8 a.m. shift, sorting mail. Flora and her friends returned home just in time to pack lunches for their children and get them off to school. We are certain Flora took naps on those days, as she was a HUGE proponent of naps.In 1970, when her youngest child started school full time and after years of being an at home mom running a home business, Flora decided to rejoin the federal work force. She got a part-time position with the Environmental Protection Agency EPA where she re-organized the office and ushered in the latest technology, IBM memory typewriters. She was a valued employee and her efforts were recognized and rewarded. Her supervisor arranged to have her position reclassified from a “clerical” to a “professional” series. After several years at EPA, Flora decided to move on to full-time employment and wanted to work on “the Hill.” She targeted Congressmen who had large, Spanish-speaking constituencies and was hired in 1975 by U.S. Representative Sam Gibbons from Tampa, Florida. Early in her career with him, Flora and Sam made a pact that she would work as long as he did. They both retired in 1997. Unfortunately, at that time, Flora equated retiring with expiring and was not ready to do either. Instead, she managed the office of a local dental practice until 2001, at which time she fully retired. Once Flora became accustomed to sleeping in and doing as she pleased, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, she wondered why she’d ever delayed retirement.Flora was a devoted wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend, co-worker and neighbor. She never visited anyone empty-handed. She had a definite sweet tooth and almost always took a sweet of some sort as a gift to her host. She was loyal and generous, steadfast in her commitments. She was an outstanding communicator and wrote letters weekly to family and friends for over 65 years, only recently dropping the practice perhaps because so many of her friends and family had died. It saddened her to have letters returned or to not hear back, only to find out the person had passed away. Flora passionately loved her family and was equally loved by them. She was a great storyteller, who acted out her many tales, often making her audience laugh until they cried. Flora’s legacy of love, laughter, kindness and generosity will remain in our hearts forever.Flora was predeceased by her parents, Jorge and Mercedes Lopez Enriquez, her husband of 61 years, Paul, her sister, Chela, brother, Mario, and four of her eight children, Sean Coleman 1958, William Furey 1972, Brigid S. Healy 1992, and Graciela P. “Chela” 2012. Flora is survived by two brothers, Jorge and Rodolfo “Fito” and four daughters, Isabel “Isa” Robins Clark of Richmond, Maire Snodderly James of Oklahoma City, Maria Dolores “Lola” Sullivan and Monica Edwards of Alexandria. Flora is also survived by twelve grandchildren, Liam Sullivan Nell, Sarah Eidson, Michael Snodderly, Aaron Edwards Katie, Katie Curtis Trevor, Beth Schrantz Sander, Brian Edwards, Conor Healy, Mary Healy, Jonathan Edwards, Brigid Edwards and Maria Fidelia “Lela” Edwards, five great grandchildren and many nieces and nephews.