Monday June 9th 2008

[Purpura]

My grandmother passed away today. My uncle told my mother, and she told my husband- I didn't know until Tuesday after Midnight. As I write this I have tears running down my face intermittently.... She was born in either 1912- or 1914- but we don't know exactly how old she is, due to the fact the building the record of her birth was in, burned in a fire in the 1930s. My Mother said they decided to 'celebrate' My grandmother's birthday on October 14th just after my brother was born.

Three cheers for Frieda Grebel Ruddel, A Daughter, A Sister, A Wife, A Mother, A Grandmother, A Great-grandmother...

The last time I saw her, was before I moved out here to California...I said goodbye to her back in 2004... And now she's gone...


I will never forget her.

[vixen101485]

So sorry for your loss. Our thots are with you and your family

[BRWombat]

My thoughts and prayers are with you, too, Purpura.

[February]

I'm so sorry. Grandmothers are the most amazing people you'll ever meet. I just adore them.

I wish I had gotten to meet yours, and I thank you for telling me a little bit about her. She sounds like quite a lady. Hold the memories tight.

((((Hugs)))))

Bru

[Belgarion42]

You and your family are in my prayers.

[Theme Park Where]

I'm sorry for your loss. I had a special relationship with my Grandmother too. This is the poem I wrote for her eulogy:

The Book
by Diane Graebner

The year was 1912, when God picked up His pen
And in His gilded heavenly book, a story did begin.

He told a tale of happiness, and of a life lived well;
Love and joy and laughter within her soul did dwell.

A theme of creativity, ran all throughout the text
Poems, prose, and puppetry; within her heart expressed.

He wrote of education, and thirst for knowledge too -
A quest to learn about the world, which no one could subdue.

The tale turned to adventure, and travels far and near.
To many a wondrous far-off land she toured without fear.

And then it spoke of caring, and generosity,
With courage of conviction, tempered with mercy.

The story was a tale of love, a marriage heaven-blessed,
Between a man and woman, each other's heart possessed.

He wrote for more than ninety years; filled every single page,
The paper old and wrinkled had yellowed in its age.

God knew that He'd said everything that He could ever write.
His masterpiece was finished, about a life lived right.

He softly closed the cover, and put the book away -
For those who knew and loved her to re-read every day.

[vixen101485]

That is a beautiful poem TPW.

[Purpura]

That is a beautiful poem TPW.

She's right.. and Thank you... Thank you all... *hugs*

[mechurchlady]

A genealogist would have access to the 1920 and 1930 censuses. They could see her age. Hugs and condolences. Instead of roses I send you a brisket. Sorry for your loss, big hugs and if you need you can borrow my plushies.

[Purpura]

Thank you... Churchy I'm hugging our friend :tigger: