Picture made on July 18, 2004, at age 85.

When I come to the end of the road,
and the sun has set for me,
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room;
Why cry for a soul set free?

Miss me a little, but not too long,
and not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we all shared;
Miss me, but let me go.

For this is a journey that we all must take,
and each must go alone.
It’s all a part of the Master’s plan,
a step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick of heart,
go to the ones you know;
and bury your sorrows in doing good deeds.
Miss me, but let me go.

—Author unknown

             is for the million things she gave me,