Joyce Marie Busby was the fabric that bound a far-reaching family tree, her roots burrowed deeply into the heart of Houston, Texas, where she first drew breath on July 19, 1950. Born to Edward Paul Pradia and Annie Ray (Williams) Pradia, a couple whose love encircled her with warmth, she learned early the virtues of compassion and resilience. Joyce stood strong through the whirlwinds of change over her years until her sunset on May 15, 2024.

She met Prentis Busby, a man with whom she would share countless sunrises and sunsets, in 1986. Their love story was not one written in the stars, but rather one crafted with the tender, earnest effort of two hearts wanting to build something lasting. They exchanged vows in 1992. Joyce became a beacon of maternal love to La'Shun, Charity, and Kenya, and a grandmother whose embrace could soothe any storm to her twelve grandchildren and soothe it she did to another horizon of 23 great-grandchildren.

Joyce's youth in Oakland, California, was a tapestry of experiences, stitching her memories within the familiar halls of Fremont High School, from which she graduated in 1969. The kaleidoscope of her life spun colors of various jobs, including her time at Kaiser and Greyhound. However, it was perhaps her daycare business that best captured the essence of Joyce—nurturing, patient, and joyously involved in the growth and shaping of young lives.

Joyce held a Milky Way of hobbies within her grasp. Her hands, skilled and loving, stirred life into meals and baked the sweetest treasures. She sewed dreams into clothing and planted serenity in her garden. Shopping was no mere chore for her; it was a quest for perfect gifts to give, a testament to her thoughtfulness. At the end of the day, when the house was tidy and loved ones were fed, she would nestle into her favorite spot and lose herself in a movie or TV show—an escape into stories that perhaps reminded her of her unique narrative.

Her home beckoned not just her kin but anyone who needed refuge. Joyce's door was a portal to sanctuary—at first knock, the visitor would be greeted not just with open arms but with a heart unconditionally open—a home where strangers turned to family. Nieces, nephews, cousins, sisters, brothers, friends, and even her aging parents at times found solace and celebration within her walls. The aromas of her kitchen wafted through the air, weaving an irresistible siren call, as binding and enduring as her loyalty.

Joyce's life was a collage of roles—mother, wife, grandmother, friend—but it was perhaps her unwavering loyalty which stood out the most. She didn’t just uphold tradition; she went above and beyond to create everlasting memories for her family.