Carol A. Westfall-Del Preore

Carol A. Westfall-Del Preore (nee Dooley), 78, of Jersey City, New Jersey, passed away on Sunday, December 11, 2016. Beloved wife of Andrew Del Preore. Loving mother of Camille and Maigann Westfall, and stepmother of Andrew C. and Philip Del Preore. Dear sister of Peter Dooley, Maureen Bassett-Baran and the late Diane Latimer and Patricia Fortenbaugh. Cherished grandmother of Jenna and Jon Westfall. Carol was an undergraduate student of Rhode Island School of Design. She received her MFA at Maryland Institute of Contemporary Art and was a Professor of Fine Art at Montclair State University and a Teacher of Art at Columbia University. She was a fiber artist of international renown. Funeral service Thursday 8:30AM from the Caiola-Stellato Funeral Home, 691 Avenue C, Bayonne. Funeral Mass 9:30AM St. Henry R.C. Church. Interment Immaculate Conception Cemetery, Montclair. Friends will be received Wednesday 1-4 and 7-10PM. In lieu of flowers donations may be made to Alzheimer's Association, 400 Morris Avenue, Suite 251, Denville NJ 07834 or American Cancer Society, 20 Mercer Street, Hackensack NJ 07601.

Here are two beautiful tributes from Carol's loving daughters, Camille and Maigann.

Traveling with my mother, Carol Westfall, was always an adventure. When she taught during the summer at San Miguel de Allende in Mexico, our family would pack up our belongings into our VW bus. My sister and I would fight for space among all the usual suitcases that one might expect in a typical family travel adventure, but then there were also the loom parts, the spindles, all the interesting paraphernalia that one might expect a teacher of weaving to need. I loved my Mom's art supplies. One of my fondest memories as a child was all the hours I spent with her fabric pieces. I would create habitats for my animals with those fabrics. It probably explains my love for quilting. I never told her about my creative use of her plaster supplies. I made a cast, forged myself a note, and got out of gym for several weeks

Then there were the unexpected stops along the way. I might see an ordinary field out the window, my mother saw an incredible contrast between colors and had to take a picture. She might see a cluster of plants that when picked and processed, would become a beautiful dye for yarn or fabric so we would have to stop and pick the plants. Mom might simply want to stop to appreciate a beautiful sunset. When we looked at things together, she tried to teach my sister and I to see not only what was there, but to also see the possibilities. There were also plenty of stops for Baskin Robbins - Mom loved her ice cream and sweet treats in general.

When we did stop, if there were people around, she had an incredible way of making people feel comfortable and of making friends. When I was in my teens, I drove across the country with my Mom to help her deliver some art work. At that time my mom drove a VW Rabbit and she had had a CB radio installed for the trip. Her handle was "Jersey Weaver". She struck up a conversation with a trucker soon after we began driving and we ended up traveling with a convoy of truckers for a good portion of the journey and my Mother played a cassette tape of songs because one of the truckers was going through a divorce and she wanted to help him process his feelings.

My Mom was always an incredibly hard worker and high achiever. Art was her passion and she was driven to create. Her website showcases the diversity and beauty of her artwork. She was also a wonderful teacher - she knew her subject matter well and both inspired and encouraged her students.

My Mom was an excellent cook and loved family gatherings, parties, and going out to eat. She would want to plan our get togethers months in advance. Every birthday, every holiday, every milestone in her family's lives would be an occasion to celebrate.

She also loved fashion and had a great sense of style. My Mom instinctively knew how to throw together an outfit as opposed to just getting dressed. She loved her clothes and she loved a bargain. Once I grew up, I could appreciate that she was confident enough to express her own sense of style. As a teenager, there was more than one occasion when she would be walking down the aisle of the local grocery store singing a song (usually Motown), dressed in a sari with bells on her toes, and my sister and I would be slinking along behind her pretending that we didn't know her.

My Mother and Father loved each other very much and she tried very hard to make that marriage work. When she had first taken a job at Montclair State University, Mom used to drive to NJ and stay in her office during the week and then come home to Baltimore on the weekends. As a child, I did not understand why my Mother seemed so stressed whenever I saw her during that time period - as an adult looking back, I marvel at her strength and commitment to both family and her career. When my parents finally divorced, it was a painful time but it was ultimately the right decision. Years later, a chance meeting in the fur department at Bloomingdale's would lead to Mom being introduced to Andrew DelPreore, who would turn out to be her soulmate. Carol and Andy would go on to have many happy, loving years together.

My Mom was a fighter, she was first diagnosed with cancer back in 2000 and she was determined to survive, to see her grandchildren come home, and to be there for her family. This most recent battle with cancer, coupled with the Alzheimer's that she had been diagnosed with, proved to be too much for my Mother. She faced the last few difficult weeks of her life with as much dignity as she could and with her beloved Andy by her side. I think she was finally able to let go at the end because her family had reassured her that we would all be ok and that we would all look after Andy.

My Mom loved her family, friends, and students so deeply. When her husband posted on Facebook of her illness, people started sharing stories of my Mother. I know her kindness, her creativity, her joy in life will live on in all the lives that she has touched over the years.

I hoped the day would never come when I would be standing up here doing this for it would mean that my Mom was no longer with us and that would be more than I and so many people that loved her could bear. My mother was absolutely one of a kind. If you were fortunate enough to know her you would know how hard it is to capture in words her spirit, her heart. But you can see it in her art work and the stories of those whose paths she crossed during her life. She made friends wherever she went and dedicated herself completely to her teaching, students, artistic endeavors and her family.

As a child I remember navigating my way around a variety of art work. Many of her pieces were quite large and provided challenging terrain for me and the cat to race around. I only knew this wasn't everyone else's 'normal' when friends would come over and marvel at all the art work on the walls and floor. Often she would ask for my help in whatever project she was immersed in- balling up the yarn she was spinning, unfurling sisal rope or holding a tapestry while she arranged it in just the right light. Frequently she was in another world, so deeply immersed in her creative process that only the loudest of noises would bring her back to the present.

Mom saw the world differently as only an artist can. I remember traveling along the NJ turnpike with her past the chemical plants and shipping containers. I was thinking of how dilapidated it all looked when she suddenly stated how wonderful the colors of the containers were- they reminded her of a patchwork quilt. I saw rusted, dilapidated metalwork. She saw brilliant contrasting colors that formed a sculpture. Not long ago we were in a mall where she was completely taken with the colors on a clothing display, mesmerized by their intensity. She saw things that I just did not see. Her mind was teeming with ideas and her hands were always busy with the components of the next project, be it paper cranes or hair ties. I marveled at her ability to take something like a simple hair tie from Japan and with it create a whole series devoted to overpopulation called "This Crowded Planet". On more than one occasion when we were in the car together it would come to an abrupt halt because she saw an image that needed to be photographed or just had to pick flowers for a specific color of dye. I loved going to museums with her because she would inevitably see something that would inspire her. She would take a sharp breathe inwards and gasp with delight, pointing at the instigator with joy.

Mom was one of the bravest people in our NJ neighborhood during my childhood. She was the one that you called when no one else would venture out in the biggest of storms. She was one of the most tenacious people I have ever known- she never gave up no matter how difficult things got. There are so many chapters to her life that I could hardly touch upon them all or do them justice. She found love again with her husband Andy and delighted in being a grandmother to Jon and Jenna.

Life will never be the same without her. She would want all of us to live, love and laugh every day. I have no doubt her spirit lives in heaven now where she will be free to create to her heart's content, weaving beautiful tapestries that you and I may get to see in the clouds and stars if we look closely enough. I selected a poem I would like to share with you that reminds me of how I want to remember her.

She is Gone by David Harkins

You can shed tears that she is gone
Or you can smile because she has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back
Or you can open your eyes and see all she has left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
Or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her and only that she's gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.

You can cry or close your mind,
Be empty and turn your back

Or you can do what she would want:
Smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

Rest in peace, Mom. We love you.