Our family lost our bonus grandma (great aunt and great-great aunt Carol) in August. I’ve always struggled finding the right words at times like these because I’m not great in social situations when emotions are raw. What I can do, however, is write something that helps others manage the loss.
I share this obituary as an example of how a writer helps honor – and celebrate – the life of someone important to him. Some info edited out for privacy.
“Will my father recognize me?” Carol asked.
A telling question, it spoke to one of the people she wanted to see most in the next life. But he wasn’t the only one she longed to see. She also yearned to be reunited with her husband, Maynard, who’d passed in 2014.
Born to William and Marie Oberg of St. Paul on December 20, 1930, she was one of five children. The “baby of the family”, she would often say, and we suppose none of her siblings let her forget it.
She graduated from Johnson High School and worked for a short while at St. Paul Fire and Marine. This was followed by Carol returning to school to learn keypunch, a career in high demand at the time. She went to work for Northern Pacific Railroad, where she stayed there for the rest of her career, finally retiring in 1995.
As many born on the East Side will proudly tell you, there are no good reasons to leave, and Carol was no exception. When she married Maynard Larson, a quiet Korean War vet, they remained in the area, not far from where she grew up. They had been married 57 years when Maynard passed. Together, they were long-time members of First Covenant Church in St. Paul, generous with their contributions and time.
While they never had children of their own, they loved their dogs, Molly and Yorkie, and many of the other four-legged friends the family introduced to them over the years. And if they ever needed a bit more noise or excitement in their lives, they had their great-nieces and their kids, who revered Carol and Maynard as a bonus set of grandparents. For their part, there was more than enough love to go around, and Carol and Maynard attended numerous birthdays and holiday celebrations with their growing family. Carol particularly enjoyed hosting Christmas parties with games.
Carol was preceded in death by her parents, her siblings, her nephews, her niece, and her loving husband, Maynard. She is survived, and greatly missed, by nephew and his extended family.
We recently found a photograph of Carol from 1935, when she was about five years old. She wears her trademark smile, the one that shone her entire life. So, to answer Carol’s question, “Will my father recognize me?”, I think we can take comfort in knowing that, yes, he most certainly recognized you and your smile, Carol. And he’d watched over you as you grew up and held you when you needed strength. We know you feel blessed to be reunited with him and with Maynard, as well as the rest of the family who greeted you when you arrived.
So many people said nice things in response to this. It made them laugh or smile, and while they were also sad, they appreciated how it made them recall the fondness and love they had for Carol. And that is perhaps the highest praise I could receive.
Hug that person you love and never forget to keep doing that. Sit on the floor and play or call them on the phone. We never want to regret that we didn’t have just one more day.
Mike
© Michael Wallevand, September 2023
Similar topic: How Do You Honor A Life?
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