A Farewell

Henry James once said, Sorrow comes in great waves...but it rolls over us, and though it may almost smother us it leaves us on the spot and we know that if it is strong we are stronger inasmuch as it passes and we remain.

To tell you the truth I had a hard time putting all of Granny’s good traits into writing. No matter how hard I try, I can never do justice to what she overcame... to what she accomplished in her lifetime. I know we are all grieving today. We all lost a great woman. But I know wherever she is now she’s happy and contented with what she left us.

My granny was a very strong woman. I like to think that is one quality I got from her. All of you have heard the maxims; “Make do. Use it up. Pass it on. Do without.” These phrases were mandatory during the time she was a little girl. She grew up during the time of the Great Depression.

Shortly after my daughter was born and I became a mother, I was blessed with an opportunity to get to know Granny on another level. We became friends. We spent a lot of time connecting, opening up to one another. We shared similar interests.

Those who know my grandmother, know that she had a great love of family history. She had a dozen 3-ring binders that documented every family birth, every marriage and every passing of a loved one. More than names and dates, her albums wove together stories, anecdotes of heartfelt memories, and photographs.

I never tired of listening to her speak of how she first met my Grandfather Louie at the Roller Dome in Wenatchee. Nor of the time she and her sisters, Winifred and Genevie, “got the bright idea to decorate our doll buggies and have a parade.” I’m sure you have all heard the story of the time she served Porcupine to her guests.

Her albums are proof of how important we all were to her, of how proud she was of each of us. We may no longer see her but we’ll always have these special moments we shared with her. She will always have a special part in our hearts.

A Farewell

Lord Alfred Tennyson


Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:
No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.


Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,
A rivulet then a river:
Nowhere by thee my steps shall be
For ever and for ever.


But here will sigh thine alder tree
And here thine aspen shiver;
And here by thee will hum the bee,
For ever and for ever.


A thousand suns will stream on thee,
A thousand moons will quiver;
But not by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.