Francis always popped into almost every Zoom session my friends and I had with Mary to say hello.  He was the only husband that did that, but he couldn’t resist an interaction with a group.  An impish (“I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t resist”) grin and there he was with a loving greeting to us all.
How many times have I heard Mary say, “Oh, Francis…” when he was going on about something?  Mary, the down-to-earth, feet on the ground one, and Francis the fanciful l spirit.
He adored Mary and loved to tell the story of the time in his frat house when someone (maybe him) was going around yelling, “Mary Noble broke up with her boyfriend and is available.”  He beat everyone else to the phone to call her, and the rest is history.  (That one always got an “Oh, Francis” for sure.)
But my favorite story about Francis took place in the Presbyterian neo-natal unit just after Christopher was born prematurely.  Mary had been discharged, but Chris was still in some danger, and Ed and I met them one night when they were visiting him.  Mary was pale and vulnerable and not the strong “I’ve got this” woman I was used to.  Francis was serious and calm and had his arm around her as we waited.  She was frightened and probably so was he, but he was the one who was reassuring and steady and calm while Mary was visibly shaken.  I saw then that Francis had a totally different side of him that still had the optimism and hope we had always seen, but also reflected the steady, strong guy who knew how to take care of his family.
And he did that in so many ways.  By driving cross country to hear Tagni play in summer band camp concerts at the end of her session, to attending every practice and game that Chris ever participated in and coaching many of them.  He was the biggest cheerleader of his grandchildren and noticed and encouraged every talent they had from computer skills to soccer to ballet to cheerleading and of course music.
Francis was INVOLVED with all caps in the lives of his family and had opinions about everything which he was more than happy to share with you.  
I think of him as warm and loving and droll and impish and full of creativity and fun.  But I also think of him as a steady and consistent presence that his family knew they could count on.  He was dad, he was Mary’s husband and he loved those roles, but he was also a musician who never stopped creating music.
And he was a friend.  When my sister Barbara lost her job when Golden Acres changed management, I sent an email to friends asking if anyone knew of job for someone in mid-life with her skills; he was the only one to respond.  He introduced her to the Dean of Humanities at North Lake and that was the beginning of a wonderful second 16-year career for her.  He cared enough to do something.  To help out.  Whether it was to answer my email with a job opportunity, to loan us his truck, to pick up a huge piece of art we needed help hanging, or to show up at our birthday parties, weddings and especially the Thanksgivings we celebrated with our chosen family in Dallas.
We were lucky enough to have had lunch with Mary and Francis this past spring and enjoyed the Francis of old telling stories, asking our advice about interfering with a friend’s life with some helpful advice (Oh, Francis, of course not!) and generally entertaining the whole table.
We will miss him so much and are still reeling from his loss, but knowing Francis was worth all the pain of losing him.  He was a lot to lose and our hearts are with Mary, Tagni, Graeme, Kiera, Chris, Tam, Franklin and Faye.  You had the very best in Francis and so did we.
A donation to the MD Parent Project has been made in Francis's memory.