Dsc00645
Wilson's Chapel of the Roses, Roseburg, Oregon April 10, 2008
My beautiful little mother is at rest now.
My mother, Ruby Victoria Chambers' goodbye to this world.
Wilson's Chapel of the Roses, Roseburg, Oregon April 10, 2008
My beautiful little mother is at rest now.
Wilson's Chapel of the Roses, Roseburg, Oregon April 10, 2008
Three months shy of being 98 years old! She looks like she is just asleep
Wilson's Chapel of the Roses, Roseburg, Oregon April 10, 2008
A beautiful nosegay and a cross to take with her.
Wilson's Chapel of the Roses, Roseburg, Oregon April 10, 2008
The flowers and the coffin were exquisite. Gorgeous shades of pink and magenta. The coffin's name is "Cameo Rose," outside a lovely pearl white, with rose cameos along the sides, inside lined with crushed velvet in an ice pink shade.
Wilson's Chapel of the Roses, Roseburg, Oregon April 10, 2008
Here I am, saying goodbye to Mom. It was very hard. I loved her so much and wanted to protect her from harm forever, but we all must leave eventually and it was her choice to end her suffering on this plane.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
It's the next day, Friday, April 11, 2008, at noon. We are preparing for a graveside service. The casket is closed. It was very hard for me, I didn't want it to be so final. I wanted Mom to just be sleeping, so she would stay with me.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
Another view of the casket and the grounds behind.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
Loading the casket into the hearse for a very short trip to the other side of the cemetery. The funeral director is on the left. Two workers from the cemetery are on the right.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
The casket is now prepared to be lowered into the ground. I could barely stand it. This is the final moment.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
Another view of the casket waiting to be lowered. See the noisy I-5 in the background. The noise bothered me, but I guess it won't bother Mom. If I had the money, I would donate a huge, sound-proofing wall to the cemetery ... maybe someday when I win the lotto.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
The funeral director on the left and the cemetery workers middle and right are preparing the casket to be lowered.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
The casket is slowly and regally descending into the earth. My heart aches.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
... and further ... and then it's gone out of sight.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
It's later in the day. I have changed clothes and come back just before sunset to bring Gloria a bouquet of silk flowers and a balloon for her grave site. The tree I'm standing in front of of was planted by the parents of a 17-year-old boy whose grave is next to Gloria's ... a very nice neighbor. A young couple who were mourning the death of their baby offered to take the photo.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
Walt's headstone. He was a good man. He treated my mother like a princess and loved her family as his own. I'm glad my mother had him in her life.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
Mom is resting between two people she loved and protected. My father and my sister.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
One final photo of the glorious flowers ... representing the cycle of life, death and renewal. You can see the replaced sod, beneath the flowers.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
One last photo of the site and the gorgeous flowers. The vase of yellow flowers below the stand is from my dear friends, Marion Warren and Peter Wells.
Roseburg Memorial Gardens Cemetery April 11, 2008
Mom is resting comfortably at last in The Garden of the Good Shepherd. Following are two poems I wrote in her honor.
A TIME FOR REST
Your time to rest has come, my amazing mom.
Throughout the long years you cared for us all,
And now heavenly home and angels call.
Your encouraging words when we felt low
Gave us the courage to stand tall and grow.
When we hurt, your tender touch every day
Healed us so we could go back into the fray.
God invented mothers to share His care
When He reluctantly cannot be there.
But now your tasks done, you accept your crown
And don yourself in a glorious gown.
We will miss you, Mom, but we realize
When our time comes, you will open your wings,
And greet us at heaven’s gate as angels sing.
By LaVonne Taylor
MY MOTHER’S TOUCH
Old and wizened now,
My mother’s hands still
Hold the healing touch
That quelled a fevered flame.
Her gentle fingers
Lifted limp, damp strands
From my burning brow,
Bringing blest relief.
Her e'er soothing hands
Upon my small child's
Back brought sweet slumber
Welcomed by my tiny soul.
Tho’ I’ve long been gone
From maternal hearth,
I do still recall
The healing comfort,
The holy, loving gift
Of those once soft, white
Hands; worn and gnarled
By endless tasks and time.
By LaVonne Taylor
