Dionne Thomas was excited to be involved in her son's Michael's senior football season at Champlin Park.

She planned to once again volunteer at the team pre- and postgame meals, ring her notorious cowbell during games and wear Michael's No. 79 jersey with pride on Senior Night.

But last November, Dionne was hit by a car and killed while crossing the street near her workplace in south Minneapolis.

Thomas, 38, was buried wearing a necklace featuring a "79" charm and with a team sweatshirt that said "Big Mike's Mom" on the back. When Senior Night comes around, Michael will take the field with the example she set living on through his actions.

Named the Rebels' top defensive lineman as a sophomore two years ago, the 6-2, 306-pound Thomas said moving to right guard on the offensive line was a better philosophical fit.

"Offensive linemen are under the radar all the time but if it wasn't for us, our running backs wouldn't be as good as they are," Thomas said. "It all starts with us in the trenches."

Not unlike his mother who, working on the front lines, helped fellow members of the Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe as a case manager with the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services's Temporary Assistance for Needy Families program.

Her sister, Danielle Krause, said Thomas "really enjoyed her work because she had been in that position. She got to offer the help she used to get back on her feet."

She took the same approach to her own children. A resident of north Minneapolis, Thomas sent Krista and Michael to live with her parents and enrolled them at Champlin Park.

"She wanted them to have better opportunities," Krause said. "It was a bittersweet thing sometimes. And it was a lot of work for her to attend school functions and keep in the loop."

The added miles were no match for a mother's love. When Michael turned 17 last September, Dionne drove to Champlin and decorated his Jeep.

"Michael filled her with a lot of pride," Krause said. "Rain, sleet, whatever, she was there."

When Thomas woke up earlier this month on his 18th birthday, feeling good about reaching adulthood, he found his Jeep decorated once again, this time by Krista and his girlfriend.

But as the day wore on, his mother's absence "kept hitting me more and more," he said. During that evening's game against Blaine, Thomas began struggling. The offense couldn't make first downs. His Rebels were losing. What followed was an uncharacteristic sideline eruption.

"I was yelling at all my players that we need to pick it up," Thomas said. "I went to the other end of the sidelines and Coach [Mike] Korton came down and asked what was wrong. I said, 'It's my birthday. I'm mad. My mom's not here.' He said he knew that's what it was and that's when I broke down on his shoulder and started crying."

The emotions built up in part because Thomas did not make his usual pregame visit to his mother's grave -- a place where he could share details of his life.

"I just update her on everything -- how I'm doing, how school is going, how my girlfriend is doing, how football season is going -- everything I would always talk to her about," Thomas said.

He also shares stories about her nephew, born only weeks after her death. Krause named her son Kameron Dion John after her sister. And a tribal elder gave him the Indian name Manido Gwewizance, which means "spirit boy." By coincidence, a different elder gave Thomas the same name when he was a baby.

To Kameron, Thomas's title is We'enh, which Krause said "means that he stood up for my son during the naming ceremony and promised to look after him and show him the Native way."

Family members honor Dionne's memory through traditional Ojibwe methods such as the spirit dish. At some gatherings, they put small portions of different foods on a plate, then take it outside and set it on fire. The smoke wafting skyward is symbolic of Dionne sharing in the meal.

Dionne dreamed of seeing her children go to college. Thomas said he is weighing scholarship offers from North Dakota and Northern Iowa.

Rightfully proud of his opportunities, Thomas still seeks to help others gain through his efforts. Doing so ensures a legacy for his hard-working, selfless mother.

"She really put a lot of people before herself and that's how I try to be, so I can help people and fulfill their lives," Thomas said. "At the funeral I realized how many people she has touched. There were 300, 400 people there. She had a big impact on peoples' lives. She was the one always helping people."