DOWNEY — Pink and green were the colors of the sunny November day, to be worn with big red noses and curly mustaches. Joyce Sherwin, who passed away in September at 94 years young, loved to wear all of the above, and friends, neighbors and family did too, as they gathered in a celebration of her life in Furman Park’s recreation Room.

“Furman Park was home to Joyce,” said her daughter Linden, speaking of the family’s choice. “It’s where she walked her dogs. We grew up here, and Amos played tennis in these courts. We looked at other venues but this was the obvious choice.”

Joyce’s three children, Linden, Pinky and Laird, had arranged an afternoon that was a tender and playfully silly tribute to their mother.

“She would be thrilled at the activity today in the park,” said Pinky. “The kids playing, the dogs, families having picnics in the shelters. She loved the outdoors, and these things were important to her.”

“We invited about 150 people,” said Linden, “and about 80 responded with yes, so we have prepared for 100.” It seemed that everyone came, most of them on time, and no one left, as they all stayed and enjoyed the afternoon with Joyce.

Friends chatted amiably as though they wore red noses every day. Behind the proboscises in the photo above are Sharon Lavery, Music Director for the Downey Symphonic Society, wearing Joyce-pink and green; Don Marshall, past president of the DSS, who came from Fullerton to honor Joyce, and pink-clad Mary Stevens, board secretary. Other Symphony friends included myself, JoAnne Gronley, Bill and Katie Hare, and red-nosed Pat Gil, resplendent in pink and green and representing the Downey Arts Coalition as well. Friend and Fourth Place neighbor Lea Fratello arrived later.

Many were from Joyce’s church, and had come from Long Beach and Whittier. Family came from New York and Tennessee, cousins from Long Beach and Costa Mesa, too many new names for me to register. Most got the memo and wore a combination of pink and green, and one church friend, Laura Stone, wore a long Hawaiian gown of green and white with an elaborate necklace set with green stones, She carried a pink leather purse, and Joyce would have told her how beautiful she was.

Frank and Carol Kearns, and artist-poet Roy Anthony Shabla who now lives in Joshua Tree, were sick at home, but sent their love. “The Park is perfect for Joyce,” wrote Carol. “Informal and not stuffy.”

A basket of foam rubber noses and a tray of mustaches awaited guests at the registration table where two of Joyce’s grandkids, Eden and Dartagnan Tzanetopoulos, greeted everyone as they signed the guest book. Eden was sporting a full leg brace. “My left knee got smashed in a car accident,” said Eden. But in true Joyce spirit she added, “It will make me stronger — now I’m bionic.”

The room was decorated with pink and green balloons and tablecloths, and lined with table arrayed with mementos from the life of Joyce Waddell Sherwin, nee Baumgartner. Joyce contributed newspaper articles to Downey Patriot, served on the Downey Symphony Guild's Board of Directors, volunteered for ESL classes, and played piano and served as Reader for the First Church of Christ, Scientist, Downey. And parasailed for the eighth time on her 94th birthday this past June. “It took all morning to set this up,” said Dartagnan.

On the first table a perfect sand dollar lay beside two broken and carefully put together egret shells placed in a nest, and a book on birding. Also, Downey Symphony programs and a copy of The Blue and Gray, a study Joyce wrote about Downey residents serving in the Civil War.

Further on a video showed pictures of events in Joyce’s life, and friends sat attentively to watch it unfold. On the next table a giant crossword puzzle was spread out, beside an intricate jigsaw puzzle of a knight in medieval armor and a book, Mad Libs.

Pink wristbands identified us when we stepped outside to one of the park’s spacious new shelters made possible by Measure S, where Taco Cart in Downey had catered a taco buffet, with three kinds of meat and a vegan filling, and fresh guacamole. Lemonade and hibiscus tea completed the repast, and later madeleine cookies and coffee were served.

A video photographer arrived to take individual interviews of a memory with Joyce, to be played for everyone, and inside on a table there were paper and pens to write down reminisces of moments with Joyce. The basket overflowed with many sheets of paper as the afternoon went on.

Travels pictures and souvenirs, including a trip on a narrow boat in canals in England and Wales, filled another table, “Always Up To Something” was the title at another display, with pictures of Joyce baking, gardening, upholstering. Joyce and Her Kids and Their Kids, was the title for another. One table held pictures of “A Cherished Highlight,” Joyce in 2003 conducting the Downey Symphony Orchestra in Meredith Wilson’s 76 Trombones from The Music Man, complete with the baton Joyce used that memorable evening.

Often guests only take a short stroll and a perfunctory look at memorabilia that has been arranged for them, but today everyone paused to look, browsing slowly, because they knew they featured in Joyce’s life. Displays were interactive, asking for comments, and cards and pens were provided everywhere, the kind of thoughtful touch Joyce would have done. A weekly calendar was opened to the last week of her life, and there were notes, reminders and plans for every day. “We were with her two days before,” said Pinky. “and she was fine. And fine at 94 Joyce was.

At the last table, guests were asked to take a card and write one word describing Joyce. I took one and wrote, “impossible to compress that spirit into one word.” You need more than one word for someone loving, imaginative, smart, funny, adventurous, brave, who marches to her own drummer. But maybe impossible itself is the word. No one could have been as amazing as Joyce, and yet —