Monserrate Berrios Perez was a force to be reckoned with. She had stories and secrets, and an uncanny ability to obtain information. You could talk with her for hours about anything. She was an avid reader; whether it was a Nora Roberts novel or a newspaper, there was always something in her hand. She said it kept her mind sharp, and her English comprehension intact. Her purse was reminiscent of Mary Poppins'; anything you needed would appear inside of it like magic. Her deep freezer was always stocked, prepared to feed an army at any moment. She loved beer and wine, good company, and taking care of everyone else. She was strong-willed, and wouldn't tolerate being told what to do, but seldom told you what she wanted, out of courtesy, or perhaps because of the joy it brought her to make you happy. She devoured strawberry ice cream, and despised yogurt. She spread butter like cheese on bread and crackers. She was a cancer survivor. Throughout her fight, you rarely heard a single complaint. Walking every day was a priority to her to the very end. She frequently slipped her grandchildren cash behind her childrens' backs. She would go with the flow, and she loved to travel. Her favorite word was phenomenal. Food was phenomenal. Countries and cities were phenomenal. Movies were phenomenal. Life was phenomenal. And so was she.

Monse, beloved wife, mother, grandmother, family matriarch, and phenomenal woman.