This month, we said goodbye to two longtime friends of CFI.

Sen. Faith Winter was tragically killed in a car crash on the eve of Thanksgiving. CFI, along with 9to5 and A Better Balance, worked side by side with Faith for nearly a decade to pass Colorado’s Paid Family and Medical Leave program. Without Faith, that program would not exist. Without Faith, it would not be one of the strongest in the country, including this year’s expansion of benefits for parents with babies in the NICU.

Being in the trenches on that bill year after year, seeing the constant pressure Faith faced to cave, to do less for families, was a lesson in perseverance. Faith stuck to her guns. She carried that weight and bore that pressure. Rather than fold, the pressure made her tougher; she came out the other side brighter and harder, like a diamond.

Faith brought strategy and heart to every interaction, every day. She was a force—brave, fierce and tough. She was unafraid to do or say the hard thing. She was also fun, funny and warm. For the past few years, her office was near the Senate committee hearing rooms, and there were times she would find me sitting or waiting there, see the look on my face, and whisper conspiratorially, “You can hide in here.” She could tell when I needed a break from the pressure.

There were many moments in my years of working with Faith when I was simply in awe of her—as a legislator, a mom and a human. Faith Winter was a warrior for families and children. She was tiny in body but huge in spirit. She leaves a giant hole at the Colorado Capitol. I am reminded of the Shakespeare quote: “Though she be but little she is fierce.” Rest in peace, Faith.

We also recently lost one of CFI’s first supporters, Nancy “Nan” Morehead.

CFI began as an all-volunteer coalition of human services, health care and education advocates who came together in the late 1990s to better understand TABOR and Colorado’s budget. These advocates realized that decisions about programs benefiting children and families were no longer being made on their substance, but on their fiscal impact.

At the time, Nan was the legislative liaison for the Denver Department of Human Services, a skilled lobbyist and fierce policy advocate for low-income families and children. That ragtag coalition applied for funding to staff a project within the Colorado Center on Law and Policy that could provide permanent capacity for tax and budget education for Colorado’s advocacy community. With that grant, CFI was born.

The coalition became an advisory committee for CFI, with one member serving as a voting member of the Colorado Center on Law and Policy board of directors. Nan was our voice there. In true Nan fashion, she was a fierce proponent of independent, accessible and credible tax and budget analysis. She knew it was integral to the things she cared most about—ensuring all Colorado families and children had what they needed to thrive.

Nan was one of the first people I met in this work and someone I wanted to emulate. She was strong and direct, wicked smart, with a no-nonsense demeanor when there was work to be done—perhaps a result of her Pueblo upbringing. And maybe because of that upbringing, Nan was also incredibly kind and funny.

She leaves behind countless people who were forever changed by her spirit and influence, including me. Rest in peace, Nan. Thank you for everything.