Beatrice Berry View A Story - Burlington, Ontario | Guelph Line Smith's Funeral Home
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This Book of Memories memorial website is designed to be a permanent tribute paying tribute to the life and memory of Beatrice Berry. It allows family and friends a place to re-visit, interact with each other, share and enhance this tribute for future generations. We are both pleased and proud to provide the Book of Memories to the families of our community.

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Aunt Bea

I loved your mom.  How could I not?  How could anyone not love her?  Aunt Bea was happy and frank.  She's the only person I've known who could look you in the eye and tell you you're full of baloney -- and be laughing and chuckling the entire time.  Smiling and laughing in a way that let you know she thought the world of you and she was telling you this as your pal.  You knew she wasn't saying this to rebuke you; she was saying it because she was your buddy.  
 
This takes a special talent.  (It's one I don't have, alas.)
 
I think she managed to pull this off because she was above all — dare I use the word? — fun!  Fun to be with.  Begin with that bubbly, never-ending laugh.  It would just pour out of her, along with a wide grin and laughing eyes.  (Yeah, her eyes laughed when she rejoiced!)  
 
She always made me happy.  Even as I write these words, I'm happy.  I guess I'm supposed to be feeling real sad.  "Bea, forgive me, I can't be sad around you!  You were just too darn happy and fun!  And you & George raised kids who are, frankly, too darn happy and fun.  I wish you had raised my kids.  I was a disaster as a father.  Like my dad, Harold.  Harold should have turned all his kids over to you and George:  'Here, here's 5 more brats to raise!  You keep 'em!  Teach them to laugh and be fun.  Teach them common sense, 'cause you, Bea, are loaded with it.'"
 
Unfortunately, Harold never thought to do this.  "Even so, my siblings and I soaked up your joy and candor whenever we were around you.  You were what's called a 'blessing.'  I'm not being maudlin or flattering; it's just fact.  Where Harold was a loose cannon, you, Bea, were solid and thoroughly good.  There were no dark surprises in you, just joy.  I don't know how you escaped the Martin depression, but -- hallelujah! -- you did!"   
 
When Eloise died, I realized what I would miss most was hearing her voice.  "Bea, I can hear your voice as I write these words.  Even though your family and I will never hear it again, we can carry your joy and goodwill in our voices — and that’s good enough for me."

 

Posted by Calvin Luther Martin
Monday November 30, 2015 at 11:07 am
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