Dear family and friends,
I have just learned that my sister Patricia Mary Gurrad Webster Stephens has died on August 28, 2012. She apparently broke her neck in a fall, but could talk. Later she developed pneumonia and it was thought by doctors that she would not survive that lung disorder. Patty wanted us all to know she had a death with dignity. And so she did.
Patty did not have an easy life and it is comforting to know she rests well in the arms of our Lord and His angels. She can feel again the unconditional love of our very dear mother, Frances.
Patty was and is a child of God and has always been a member of humanity. As such she deserves our love and prayers.
God bless us all,
October 3, 2014
I am Mary Margaret Gurrad and I am going to tell you about my loving sister Patty. She and I were adopted in 1953 and came to live with our new family. My mom was Frances and she had a lot of brothers and sisters. My dad was Grant Gurrad and he was German.
Patty loved to cut up. She always had a smile on her face. She watched over me because I was the “baby” in our family.
All of us children went to St. Mary’s School and graduated from there. Patty was always happy-go-lucky and made friends just like a puppy dog makes friends.
We lived in the country on five acres of land that my beautiful mother called “Happy Acres”. We had a swing set and Patty would ride it upside down. One year we had a huge snow storm and Patty and I wanted to go out and play in the snow. So Mom dressed us up warmly and we played in the snow. Mom took a picture of us. My mom made some of our clothes. Once she made a nuns costume for us to wear out of old sheets.
I was a year behind Patty in high school. Everyone seemed to like Patty because she had a sparkling personality. When I rode the bus Patty would always save me a seat. When Patty graduated I was so proud of her.
Sometimes Mom would ask Patty and me to pick blackberries. One Saturday we took a bucket and before the day was over Patty and I had picked a whole bucket of blackberries. We just stuck with it.
My dad bought me a horse and Patty would go riding on the trails with Ajax.
We had family picnics at the river and Patty would watch over me so I didn’t fall out of the inner-tube.
I wrote a poem in memory of Patty and it’s called:
Patty, close your eyes and travel in my forest.
Enter and wind down the trail surrounded by leafy ferns.
Majestic trees reach to the sky
Extending their limbs to the blazing sun.
The path will twist and turn overgrown in places with lush greens.
Daffodils wave gently in the breeze beckoning
To the white lilies.
Then we arrive at the bubbling brook,
With it’s fallen log extending over it.
Sit quietly and dangle your feet over the edge.
Listen to the soft breeze and
The flutter of wings.
Listen to the heartbeat of my forest Patty
And Rest In Peace.