Nellie “Nell” Edwards Daly of Wilmington, DE, passed away at home on September 10, 2018. She was born July 20, 1924 in Sparta, NC to the late Quincy and Verlyn (McCann) Edwards.

Nell was the wife of Air Force Lt. Col. John Patrick Daly, Jr. Together they raised 6 children while traveling the world. Nell was a devout Catholic and worked as an administrative assistant for the Diocese of Wilmington. She was also the pastor’s assistant at Trinity Episcopal Church in Elkton, MD. Nell volunteered as a bookkeeper for Immaculate Conception School in Elkton, MD. She enjoyed music, oil painting, birdwatching, and cooking, but her most treasured time was spent with her family and friends. Nell was considered the family story teller and will be remembered for the joy, goodwill, and friendship that she gave to all who knew her.

Nell is survived by her daughter, Patricia Boyd (James); son, John Daly (Nancy); daughter, Marie Prouty (Mark); son, Sean Daly (Sandra); daughter, Catherine Anne Ward (Keith); daughter-in-law, Cathryn Daly; 12 grandchildren; and 11 great grandchildren. In addition to her parents, Nell was preceded in death by her husband, John Patrick Daly, Jr. and son, James Michael Daly.

With gratitude and appreciation for care rendered, the family would like to thank Dr. David Estock, Linda Olivere, FNP-C and staff; Fox Rehab; Carpe Vita Home Care; Compassionate Care Hospice and Linda Prince.

A visitation will be held Tuesday, September 18, 2018 from 6 pm to 8 pm at R.T. Foard and Jones Funeral Home, 122 West Main Street, Newark, DE 19711. A second visitation will be held from 10 am to 11 am on Wednesday, September 19, 2018 at Church of the Holy Child, 2500 Naamans Rd, Wilmington, DE 19810; followed by a Funeral Mass at 11 am. Private burial will be held on Thursday, September 20, 2018.

Eulogy for “Nell”

Delivered by Jim Boyd

There is a Peanuts cartoon that shows Charlie Brown and Linus walking along together. Linus is doing all of the talking, and in the first frame he says to Charlie Brown, “I feel sorry for little babies …”. In the second frame he says, “When a little baby is born into this cold world, he’s confused! He’s frightened!”. Third frame Linus says, “He needs something to cheer him up …”. And then in the fourth frame he says, “The way I see it as soon as a baby is born, he should be issued a banjo!”. There are a number of things in this cartoon that remind us of Nell’s great love of life, her joy and celebration of living, and the generosity of her spirit. These last few months my wife Patty and I would watch her tremble uncontrollably with joy, quivering with excitement, while looking at photos of her new born great grandchildren. Babies and children were, simply, her greatest joy. I always thought that there was something deeply spiritual in her love of children. A connection to something most essential. Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” It is difficult, if not impossible, to read or hear those words and not think of Nell. Then, there is the banjo. Nell’s father played the banjo and she grew up with music as fundamental in the celebration of life. While Nell’s oldest daughter, Patty, and I were dating I made a trip to Elkton, Maryland to meet the family where, I met Nell’s father. Beforehand I was told I had much to be concerned about. Most notably, my bushy, black beard that would not be well liked by the patriarch of the family. But, our mutual interest in music and in playing the banjo just eclipsed everything else. That is what music can do; bring people together. And nobody enjoyed it more than Nell. Or to put it another way, she loved a good party, and a good joke. For as long as I can remember, and we’re talking decades here, visiting with Nell would result in her telling a joke that I had never heard before. How could anyone possibly remember that many jokes? Sometimes she got laughing so hard just thinking about It that she couldn’t finish telling it. This got me wondering that if she had lived to be one hundred years old, how many more jokes could there be? So, as the saying goes, heaven definitely did just get a lot funnier. Now all of this is not to say that she was perfect or didn’t have a few behaviors that could prove a bit frustrating at times. Take, for instance, her concept of time. Or perhaps I should say, her lack of a concept of time. Nell lived according to her own Theory of Relativity in which time did not just slow down but would often stop altogether. Somehow being on time or on schedule was contrary to the laws of physics and nature. Then, also, reflective of her generosity there was, of course, her open-door policy for the world to come visit at any time. Ralph Waldo Emerson must have had someone like Nell in mind when he wrote, “We dare not trust our wit for making our house pleasant to our friend, so we buy ice cream.” Her freezer was often packed to capacity with every flavor needed to accommodate all of her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren plus anyone else who might arrive unexpectedly. Such a welcoming spirit was just not always appreciated or shared by her husband, the Colonel, whose car was often seen racing out of the driveway shortly after the arrival of an unexpected guest, or guests. John Shea, a well-known author and theologian, has written in one of his books about the seven most important lessons of the New Testament. He mentions that one of the great insights given to us through the life of Jesus is the power of affirmation. The incredible positive and creative energy unleashed by affirming the life and spirit of others. I have never known anyone who did this more naturally and sincerely as Nell. She made you feel special. She made you feel special at least until you started to notice that she did that with pretty much everyone. Then again, that didn’t really seem to matter because she was so sincere and caring about it. You knew she meant what she said. Defining Nell’s life in five or ten minutes, her kindness, generosity, sense of humor, love of others, her devotion to her family and the impact she had on everyone she met, is, of course, impossible. I have just scratched the surface, but I will close now with a poem by Henry Scott-Holland, a former priest at St. Paul’s Cathedral of London that I think Nell would agree with: “So laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same that it ever was. Nothing is past; nothing is lost One brief moment and all will be as it was before and how we shall laugh at the trouble of this parting when we meet again!” Nell, thank you for proving that there is a place in this world for a caring spirit and unconditional love. I have never known anyone else like you. God bless you. Rest now, in peace.