Terri Yourtz

It’s Never Too Late to Show Up with Selflessness and Grace

When Gary Yourtz first met the woman who would become his wife and life partner for over sixty years, he was barely out of high school and sipping a 3.2 beer at a local club. Teresa (Terri to everyone else but always Teresa to him) was tall and slim and beautiful, with great legs he couldn’t help but notice and a head full of the high, teased hair that was all the rage at the time. Gary asked her to dance, and by the end of the evening he had both her phone number and a sneaking suspicion he was already falling in love.

That suspicion was confirmed by the end of their first date and the couple continued to see one another off and on over the next five years, maintaining a close correspondence during Gary’s time in the Coast Guard as the war in Vietnam heated up. The connection between them was undeniable, but so too
was the obstacle they would have to overcome if they wanted to be together. Gary, though not a religious person, was deeply connected to his Jewish roots. Terri, meanwhile, had been raised on a farm in Nebraska and sent to Catholic school, an experience that left her with little interest in the church but a
strong sense of familial obligation. Each time that obstacle grew too daunting and the couple parted ways, they would find their way back to one another, until eventually deciding they were just going to have to make it work. Since a religious ceremony was out of the question, they got married at the courthouse, with nothing more to their names but two cars whose payments cost more than they were worth and a determination to build their future together.

Terri, who had been working at Mountain Bell since finishing school (and out-earning her new husband, he’s quick to admit), left her job once she began having children, first a boy they named Jeff and then a girl, Erin. She was a natural homemaker, finding joy in creating a peaceful world for her
expanding family, whom she raised in her adopted Jewish culture. As Gary found professional and financial success, Terri provided the balance and stability needed at home. She had a gift for anticipating where and how she was needed, whether that was setting an inviting table to make their dinner guests feel special, to offering just the right guidance to help settle a grudge or dispute, to showing up for her friends and community in need with a meal or monetary donation.

The consummate over-tipper, Terri was always quick to say “it’s not enough,” insisting on giving more. If a friend or family member needed help, she was there before they asked. Her support of the organizations she and Gary cared most about – Planned Parenthood, Project Angel Heart, the Bridge
Project, Shalom Park and many more – knew they could count on her unwavering support, support that was never showy but genuine, selfless and directly from the heart.

More than any charitable contributions, her family says, what Terri did was show up for the people she cared about. For her husband Gary, that meant being his steady and nurturing companion,
providing the necessary scaffolding for the kind of life he could not have had without her, “I did my career,” he says, “she did everything else.” For her daughter Erin, it was leading by example how to live a life full of both generosity and courage. Erin recalls an evening during childhood when she was consumed with fear of the tornadoes that swept through their part of the country. “We have to be cautious but we can’t live in fear,” her mother counseled, a message that Erin brings to mind every time she needs to summon up bravery in life’s more challenging moments. For Terri’s son, Jeff, who has been in recovery for more than 13 years, she has been a beacon of strength when his own has wavered. For many in the recovery community, belief in a higher power is an essential element of sobriety. A spiritual rather than religious person, Jeff says that for him, his mother is his higher power; her love guided his path out of addiction.

Six years ago, Terri began to suffer from a cardiovascular disease that led to cognitive decline, and her family watched the woman they loved so much begin to slip slowly away. Today, each holds her memory close in their own way. Jeff has a tattoo on his shoulder, designed by his artist daughter, in honor
of his mother. Erin wears a piece of permanent jewelry, a bracelet that can never be removed, with the words, “All my love, mom” written in her mother’s handwriting. And Gary keeps his home just as Terri left it, even as he moves on with the next chapter of his life.. “You don’t recover from grief,” he says, “you just learn to live with it,” and despite Terri once teasing that once she was gone he had six weeks to get his affairs in order and then die of a broken heart, he knows she would have wanted him to move on. He is going on, honoring her memory and the wonderful life they shared by continuing to give
generously, love fully, and show up for the family, friends and community Terri made so much better by being a part of it.

It is never too late to show up with grace.