Muriel Evelyn Grace and Robert Frederick
Muriel Evelyn Grace Ralph (nee Watson)
March 27, 2028 - October 25, 2021
Known to her husband of 65 years, the late Robert Frederick Ralph (2016), as “Me.” We know... strange. Imagine growing up in a home where the most gentle person we’d ever met called the most loving person we’d ever met, “Me.” Is it any wonder that we children are a little mixed up?!?!
It would impoverish the celebration of Mom’s life (in her 94th year) to reduce her memory to a few words. At best, words are vessels that hold ideas, and do so inadequately. Yet they offer glimpses into a life that was utterly, well…normal. And yet, so far from average. Mom would eschew the very idea of idealizing her in death beyond what she was in life. We enjoyed a wonderful, chaotic, noisy, loving, happy….and yes, very normal home.
Family was the hub around which her life orbited. By her own admission, she cried upon returning from her honeymoon to find that she was not yet with child! Mom loved the family dinner table, the laughter, and the food. Yet, the ‘clean freak’ in her would often whisk the dishes away before we had a chance to finish the very food on our plates! Mom also loved our dog Benny. She happily invited him to share the kitchen with us, rewarding him with a leash free existence. (Not!)
Our mom was a graceful and kind lady. And proud. She was as elegant as she was faithful. Through good times and bad, Mom’s finely coiffed crown was attended to each and every Thursday at the parlor. So determined was she to stay preened that mom endured sleeping on a rolled-up towel, carefully placed under her neck, so as not to jolt one single strand of the masterpiece from its preordained station. Not content to primp only herself, she carried expectations of what was acceptable presentation and behavior for us kids. Sunday morning was a military-like dress inspection. “How would you dress if you met Her Majesty the Queen?” she’d quip. “Then you would most certainly show no less respect in the house of God. Upstairs and shine those shoes.”
Mom was imperfect, and yet Mom was supremely beautiful. She suffered from claustrophobia among other things and this didn’t always make for easy times. Dad walked many a flight of stairs to save her from her fear of elevators. His support was unyielding and without apology. As is the case for most of us, Mom’s personal quirks were on display for us to witness. And yet, as normal families do, we worked them out. She worked them out. And Dad was always there beside her, engaging in yet another fad diet WITH her and avoiding tunnels on road trips, with never a word of complaint. Her life was as rich and full as you’d expect nurturing 6 children, 12 grandchildren, and countless great-grandchildren. Family was her supreme delight. Even as her eyesight faded, it wasn’t uncommon to find mom holding up photos of her cherished tribe close to her face. She’d squint, perhaps barely recognizing a specific feature that she adored, and then make an audible sound of delight. This routine was inevitably followed by a whispered prayer….for Joan, Gayle, Brenda, Sharon, Bobby and Paul…and for Doug, Jim, Scott, Susan and Marian,…for Todd (Mary) & Sarah-Lynn (Sheldon); Kerri, Justin (Danielle), & Ashley (Brian); Jacob (Taylor) & Rebekah (Arie); Joel & Brandon; Zachary, Brittany & Kyle,…and not to be forgotten, Brooklynn & Kennadie; Embrie-Lynn & Dexter; Taylor, James & Emma; Avery & Joshua; and the latest addition, baby Eden.
Together, Mom and Dad, strengthened by their quiet faith and resolve (okay, Dad’s was the quiet faith!) journeyed through the darkest of times when their second daughter, Gayle Patricia (Shave) passed unexpectedly in 2010. The ever-present light of life was still there, yet visibly diminished to anyone who peered through their eyes and into their hearts.
They loved and lived as one.
They navigated the triumphs and the tragedies as one.
They enjoyed their lives at home & church, work & play as one.
Until they didn’t.
When dad passed in 2016, it was evident that Mom would be content to join him for eternity at the earliest possible time.
Her wish was granted, without undue suffering, on the evening of Monday October 25th. Time had taken its inescapable toll physically, yet her mind was sound. Her heart was grateful and compassionate to the end. Her hope and faith as steadfast as it had ever been.
Rest in peace Mom - you’ve earned it.
Give Dad and Gayle hugs for us.
And stare long into the eyes of Jesus.
No more fears and no more tears.
No more diets and no more longing.
And perhaps best of all, no more seeing as through a glass dimly.
All of our love, with hearts overflowing,
Your Family
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Robert Frederick Ralph
August 9, 1923. - December 7, 2016
Yesterday, my magnificent daddy in his 94th year, offered his final Kyrie Eleison - a simultaneous petition and prayer of thanksgiving. Shortly after 2pm he 'slipped the surly bonds of earth...stretched out his hand and touched the face of God.'
Most men are described by what they achieve. And there is plenty to celebrate. Dad, however, is best remembered by his character.
He saw the image of God hidden in the lives of everyday people (including his family) and had the patience, gentleness and humility to reflect it back. Without compromise, nor judgement.
I am overcome with wonderful joy and peace, knowing that he is no longer being defined by the decay and fragmentation of aging. And there is also tremendous sadness in the knowledge that his kind, generous, unassuming heart will no longer be expressed in love toward others.
I love the words of Kennedy, and offer them in his honour. My father "need not be idealized or enlarged in death beyond what he was in life. To be remembered simply as a good and decent man, who saw wrong and tried to right it, who saw war and tried to stop it, who saw suffering and tried to heal it. For those of us who take him to his rest, pray that what he was for us, and what he wished for others, may someday come to pass for all the world."
I love you dad.