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| IN
LOVING MEMORY of ANN MARIE 02 Apr 1934-05 June 2004 Chippewa of Mnjikaning First Nation |
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| Ann Marie
Beloved wife of Orval Loving mother of Edward, Robert, Joni and Aberdeen |
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| A NATIVE PRAYER
Oh Great Spirit, Whose voice I hear in the wind. I am small and weak. I need your strength and wisdom. Make my eyes ever behold The red and purple sunset Make my hands respect The things you have made. And my ears sharp to your voice. Make me wise that I may know The things you have taught your children. The lessons you have written In every leaf and rock. Make me strong, Not to be superior to my brothers But to fight my greatest enemy, Myself... Make me ever ready to come to you With straight eyes So that when life fades As the fading sunset My spirit may come to you Without shame. |
| There is a gift in life
You cannot buy It is rare and true The gift of a good friend Like I found in you If I had one flower For each thought of you In my garden I would walk forever Sleep well, dear Ann Sleep well My beloved friend good and true Forgotten never |
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| Ann,
Robbie, Jimmie, and Eddie 1960 |
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| Ann and I met when she, Orval and son Eddie became our next-door neighbours. I'm not sure when they moved in, but think it was around both our sons Eddie and Jimmie's first birthdays in the fall. By spring, we would wave shyly while hanging out our washing, commenting on the weather, etc. It was a very hot time, heat waves lasting weeks. One afternoon I glanced out my kitchen window and there was Ann, her sisters Joan and Dora, in their bare feet, giggling and dancing on the wet grass, while light rain from the sudden thunderstorm fell onto their happy faces. Years later when Ann and I were talking about the old days of being neighbours. I reminded her of that afternoon. She said "You must have thought we were crazy!" I replied, "Nooo.....well, I did wonder a little bit, because it was still thundering!".
That first spring was the one I was expecting my daughter Lou and the heat sure didn't make things easy. One afternoon I was collapsed in my lawn chair in our backyard, trying to cool off. Suddenly a shadow appeared beside me. There was Ann, a shy smile on her face, asking if I'd mind if she joined me. Of course, I had her sit down in the other lawn chair. That afternoon was the beginning of our friendship. She said later that when she looked over at me, all nine months pregnant, she felt so sorry for my being so very uncomfortable that she just had to come to see if she could help, despite her own shyness. We spent many an afternoon or evening, sharing laughs, muttering at our husbands, giving each other mothering advice, watching over our children Eddie, Robbie, Jimmie and Lou, all the while drinking pots and pots of tea. When Ralph and I, with our two toddlers, moved away, she and I kept stiff upper lips during our goodbyes, but we both wept later. During the years since, we kept in touch with letters and occasional visits, both of us still missing our chats. The hardest time for all of us was when Eddie died in his teens. My heart deeply ached for them, but as Ann said, only parents who have lost a child, can know and share the unbearable pain. Today I know she, Eddie, her sisters Joan and Dora, hand in hand, are laughing and dancing with bare feet through grass still wet from a morning shower. See you in the morning, Ann, when the dawn is breaking, the world is hushed and heaven's doors are open. Put the tea kettle on...we have a lot to talk about. |
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| Ann and Lucy
Bluegrass Festival 1992 |
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| They Walk Amongst Us..Quiet And Shy..An Inner Strength Unseen..God Willing..Would We Be Like Them.. |
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