- 41 years old
- Date of birth: Dec 13, 1970
- Date of passing: Aug 22, 2012
|Death leaves a heartache no one can heal. Love leaves a memory no one can steal. - from a headstone in Ireland|
This memorial website is for us all to share our happy memories and times with Susan. She still lives on in our minds and hearts.
When leaving posts in the Her Life or Stories sections, please post a photo too. If possible, please date the photos in the Gallery and say where they were taken.
"Happy 46th birthday - still strange that you're not here"
"Another year has passed
Another year you are gone.
My grief is now part of my life - like breathing -
My heart aches with sorrow.
And you are still gone.
"EVEN such is Time, that takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, our all we have,
And pays us but with earth and dust;
Who in the dark and silent grave,
When we have wander’d all our ways,
Shuts up the story of our days;
But from this earth, this grave, this dust,
My God shall raise me up, I trust."
"Still seems strange that you're not here. Miss you, dear sister xx"
"I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, eyes –
I wonder if It weighs like Mine –
Or has an Easier size.
I wonder if They bore it long –
Or did it just begin –
I could not tell the Date of Mine –
It feels so old a pain –
I wonder if it hurts to live –
And if They have to try –
And whether – could They choose between –
It would not be – to die –
I note that Some – gone patient long –
At length, renew their smile –
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil –
I wonder if when Years have piled –
Some Thousands – on the Harm –
That hurt them early – such a lapse
Could give them any Balm –
Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve –
Enlightened to a larger Pain –
In Contrast with the Love –
The Grieved – are many – I am told –
There is the various Cause –
Death – is but one – and comes but once –
And only nails the eyes –
There's Grief of Want – and grief of Cold –
A sort they call "Despair" –
There's Banishment from native Eyes –
In sight of Native Air –
And though I may not guess the kind –
Correctly – yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary –
To note the fashions – of the Cross –
And how they're mostly worn –
Still fascinated to presume
That Some – are like my own –"
"Susan, I miss you every day"
I sometimes hold it half a sin
To put in words the grief I feel;
For words, like Nature, half reveal
And half conceal the Soul within.
But, for the unquiet heart and brain,
A use in measured language lies;
The sad mechanic exercise,
Like dull narcotics, numbing pain.
In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er,
Like coarsest clothes against the cold;
But that large grief which these enfold
Is given outline and no more.
-- Alfred, Lord Tennyson"
"Today would have been Susan's 43rd birthday.
For some moments in life there are no words."
"This site has been set up to remember Susan through all of our collective photos and memories of her. It has been done specially to mark what would have been her 42nd birthday. I hope that others will add photos too, write down their memories, and that it can become a lasting memorial for our much loved and sadly missed Susan."
"Our darling girl came home on a cold wet December day. Our lives were never the same again! We were slighly terrified but highly delighted with her. The terror passed but not the delight!"
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