Marjorie Ellen Halliday Miller (3 May 1918 - 20 July 2009) (written: 27 July 2009)

Never had I realized the vast amount of love my grandparents had for their family; more specifically, I had not realized my grandmother's grand capacity for love. As we sifted through thousands of photographs in the days proceeding my grandmother's funeral, I came to see that love.

My grandmother, when asked by her priest if she was afraid to die, responded that she was not afraid, just curious.

Marjorie Ellen died at the age of 91, survived by Charles, her husband of 68 years, her three children, eight grandchildren, and eight great-grandchildren.

I don't know that I really loved my grandmother until she died. Now, my admiration for her far exceeds what I thought possible. Her memorial was a celebration and recognition of a life well lived.

Reverend Stambaugh, who presided over the service, recalled the kindness that was exuded from my grandmother's eyes. Even as she lay dying, he said, her eyes were bright. In my ignorance, I had interpreted her kind serenity as simplicity. What a fool I was for not seeing the true joy my grandmother had, for I could have learned much from her hospitality, hope, and loyalty.

I had a dream this last spring, around the time her health was declining. In this dream, I was helping her crossover. As I sat through her memorial, I realized that she didn't need any help transitioning into whatever is beyond this world; instead, I found it was I who needed her assistance in the transition.

In her death, grammie taught me about life. Just as she was curious about the next realm of being, I am sure that she curiously engaged this one.

I don't think I am the only one who recognized this quality in her, for many family and friends mourn her death.

My grandparents met in 1939 at the boardinghouse in which they both resided. There, in Halifax, they started going together; I asked my grandfather what drew him to her and he remarked that he didn't know, it was "just something about her". In 1940 they were married in a chapel in Windsor, Nova Scotia, with just a priest and witness present. Now, almost 69 years later, my grandfather is not alone, but is surrounded by the family that they created together. Despite this, I cannot imagine how much my grandfather misses his beloved Margie, who died while asleep next to him.

The night she passed, though I was not aware of this fact, I had another dream in which I found my grandfather napping in his chair, calling out her name. He awoke, startled by his own voice, and looked at me with confusion. For a moment, I knew he thought I was was Marjorie. I sat next to him and held his hand, he smiled and said, "Grace, tell everyone I love them." He closed his eyes and went to meet his bride.

Grammie, I love you. Don't worry, for Chas won't be long behind you. Everyone here is bettered for having known you. We all miss you, but I know it was your time. Please rest now, knowing that you have left behind the poetry of your life, fond memories of love, and hope for all.

In loving memory,
your granddaughter,
graceanna