Margaret Ann Runte Dibbert aka Marge, Margie, Maggie and Magpie, was loved by all who knew her.
She was an artist in the kitchen. Whether cooking, baking, or canning, she could take food and make it into creations that would make your taste buds weep with joy. Chili sauce made with vegetables from her garden, current-wine jelly, home made turnovers, freshly baked rolls, birthday cakes shaped like classic cars, chicken dumpling soup, freshly made sausage and German potato pancakes with fresh applesauce were all magical creations that came out of her kitchen. All of her guests came to the back door of the house and all were greeted with a tempting aroma and something special to eat. Kids loved to visit because they were always allowed to cook and bake. It was okay if they made a mess in the kitchen as long as they helped clean up afterwards. Of course, by the time they were finished cleaning up, it was time to eat their creations. Her father-in-law loved to guess which herbs and spices she put in her dishes and loved to eat whatever she cooked.
On warm summer afternoons, she would sit on the front porch and read to her children. Within a short period of time, the porch stairs and front lawn would be filled with neighborhood children listening to her read. Cub scout den leader, Job's Daughters advisor & DeMolay Mom, tennis lessons and dance classes, she was always there for her kids. If someone was in need, she would be there to sit at a bedside, take someone's kids to afterschool programs, puppy sit, cook and clean for the sick or just listen. She didn't need to be asked, she didn't expect any thanks. She wasn't judgmental and if she couldn't find something positive to say about someone, she would say nothing.
When visiting her grandchildren, she could be found in the kitchen all night making confectionary "mice" for school treats, discussing teen magazines, attending swim meets and school "grandparents day" programs. She taught them cross country skiing and snowshoeing when they were toddlers and went to rock concerts with them when they were preteens.
She loved family, poetry, opera, Shakespeare, gardening and bluebirds. She gave her time and her love to all who knew her and took many confidences and many hearts with her when she left. She is loved, missed and remembered.
When we are dead and people weep for us and grieve,
Let it be because we touched their lives in a special way.
Let it not be said that life was good to us but rather
we were good to life.
We should not measure life by its length but by the
value it gave.
Lives that have been intimately intertwined,
can not possibly be separated without pain.
It is a miracle, nothing less than a miracle,
That flowers bloom every spring,
That living thing begets living thing
That we human beings immerge again and again
From ignorance to knowledge from hopelessness to
learning From sadness to joy.
It is a miracle nothing less than a miracle.
They are not dead, those who leave us this heritage of
remembered joy
They still live in our hearts in the happiness we knew,
In the dreams that we shared.
They still breathe in the lingering fragrance,
Windblown by their favourite flowers.
They still smile in the moonlight silver
And laugh in the sunlight sparkling gold
They still speak in the echoes of words we have heard
them say again and again.
They still dance in the rhythm of the grass and dance
in the branches of the trees They are not dead,
their memory is warm in our hearts,
comfort in our sorrow.
They are not apart from us but a part of us.
For love is eternal and those we love shall be with us
for all Eternity.
From the reading by Robyn Lenehan - Civil Celebrant
(NSW Australia)
She was an artist in the kitchen. Whether cooking, baking, or canning, she could take food and make it into creations that would make your taste buds weep with joy. Chili sauce made with vegetables from her garden, current-wine jelly, home made turnovers, freshly baked rolls, birthday cakes shaped like classic cars, chicken dumpling soup, freshly made sausage and German potato pancakes with fresh applesauce were all magical creations that came out of her kitchen. All of her guests came to the back door of the house and all were greeted with a tempting aroma and something special to eat. Kids loved to visit because they were always allowed to cook and bake. It was okay if they made a mess in the kitchen as long as they helped clean up afterwards. Of course, by the time they were finished cleaning up, it was time to eat their creations. Her father-in-law loved to guess which herbs and spices she put in her dishes and loved to eat whatever she cooked.
On warm summer afternoons, she would sit on the front porch and read to her children. Within a short period of time, the porch stairs and front lawn would be filled with neighborhood children listening to her read. Cub scout den leader, Job's Daughters advisor & DeMolay Mom, tennis lessons and dance classes, she was always there for her kids. If someone was in need, she would be there to sit at a bedside, take someone's kids to afterschool programs, puppy sit, cook and clean for the sick or just listen. She didn't need to be asked, she didn't expect any thanks. She wasn't judgmental and if she couldn't find something positive to say about someone, she would say nothing.
When visiting her grandchildren, she could be found in the kitchen all night making confectionary "mice" for school treats, discussing teen magazines, attending swim meets and school "grandparents day" programs. She taught them cross country skiing and snowshoeing when they were toddlers and went to rock concerts with them when they were preteens.
She loved family, poetry, opera, Shakespeare, gardening and bluebirds. She gave her time and her love to all who knew her and took many confidences and many hearts with her when she left. She is loved, missed and remembered.
When we are dead and people weep for us and grieve,
Let it be because we touched their lives in a special way.
Let it not be said that life was good to us but rather
we were good to life.
We should not measure life by its length but by the
value it gave.
Lives that have been intimately intertwined,
can not possibly be separated without pain.
It is a miracle, nothing less than a miracle,
That flowers bloom every spring,
That living thing begets living thing
That we human beings immerge again and again
From ignorance to knowledge from hopelessness to
learning From sadness to joy.
It is a miracle nothing less than a miracle.
They are not dead, those who leave us this heritage of
remembered joy
They still live in our hearts in the happiness we knew,
In the dreams that we shared.
They still breathe in the lingering fragrance,
Windblown by their favourite flowers.
They still smile in the moonlight silver
And laugh in the sunlight sparkling gold
They still speak in the echoes of words we have heard
them say again and again.
They still dance in the rhythm of the grass and dance
in the branches of the trees They are not dead,
their memory is warm in our hearts,
comfort in our sorrow.
They are not apart from us but a part of us.
For love is eternal and those we love shall be with us
for all Eternity.
From the reading by Robyn Lenehan - Civil Celebrant
(NSW Australia)
Margaret Ann Runte Dibbert aka Marge, Margie, Maggie and Magpie, was loved by all who knew her.
She was an artist in the kitchen. Whether cooking, baking, or canning, she could take food and make it into creations that would make your taste buds weep with joy. Chili sauce made with vegetables from her garden, current-wine jelly, home made turnovers, freshly baked rolls, birthday cakes shaped like classic cars, chicken dumpling soup, freshly made sausage and German potato pancakes with fresh applesauce were all magical creations that came out of her kitchen. All of her guests came to the back door of the house and all were greeted with a tempting aroma and something special to eat. Kids loved to visit because they were always allowed to cook and bake. It was okay if they made a mess in the kitchen as long as they helped clean up afterwards. Of course, by the time they were finished cleaning up, it was time to eat their creations. Her father-in-law loved to guess which herbs and spices she put in her dishes and loved to eat whatever she cooked.
On warm summer afternoons, she would sit on the front porch and read to her children. Within a short period of time, the porch stairs and front lawn would be filled with neighborhood children listening to her read. Cub scout den leader, Job's Daughters advisor & DeMolay Mom, tennis lessons and dance classes, she was always there for her kids. If someone was in need, she would be there to sit at a bedside, take someone's kids to afterschool programs, puppy sit, cook and clean for the sick or just listen. She didn't need to be asked, she didn't expect any thanks. She wasn't judgmental and if she couldn't find something positive to say about someone, she would say nothing.
When visiting her grandchildren, she could be found in the kitchen all night making confectionary "mice" for school treats, discussing teen magazines, attending swim meets and school "grandparents day" programs. She taught them cross country skiing and snowshoeing when they were toddlers and went to rock concerts with them when they were preteens.
She loved family, poetry, opera, Shakespeare, gardening and bluebirds. She gave her time and her love to all who knew her and took many confidences and many hearts with her when she left. She is loved, missed and remembered.
When we are dead and people weep for us and grieve,
Let it be because we touched their lives in a special way.
Let it not be said that life was good to us but rather
we were good to life.
We should not measure life by its length but by the
value it gave.
Lives that have been intimately intertwined,
can not possibly be separated without pain.
It is a miracle, nothing less than a miracle,
That flowers bloom every spring,
That living thing begets living thing
That we human beings immerge again and again
From ignorance to knowledge from hopelessness to
learning From sadness to joy.
It is a miracle nothing less than a miracle.
They are not dead, those who leave us this heritage of
remembered joy
They still live in our hearts in the happiness we knew,
In the dreams that we shared.
They still breathe in the lingering fragrance,
Windblown by their favourite flowers.
They still smile in the moonlight silver
And laugh in the sunlight sparkling gold
They still speak in the echoes of words we have heard
them say again and again.
They still dance in the rhythm of the grass and dance
in the branches of the trees They are not dead,
their memory is warm in our hearts,
comfort in our sorrow.
They are not apart from us but a part of us.
For love is eternal and those we love shall be with us
for all Eternity.
From the reading by Robyn Lenehan - Civil Celebrant
(NSW Australia)
She was an artist in the kitchen. Whether cooking, baking, or canning, she could take food and make it into creations that would make your taste buds weep with joy. Chili sauce made with vegetables from her garden, current-wine jelly, home made turnovers, freshly baked rolls, birthday cakes shaped like classic cars, chicken dumpling soup, freshly made sausage and German potato pancakes with fresh applesauce were all magical creations that came out of her kitchen. All of her guests came to the back door of the house and all were greeted with a tempting aroma and something special to eat. Kids loved to visit because they were always allowed to cook and bake. It was okay if they made a mess in the kitchen as long as they helped clean up afterwards. Of course, by the time they were finished cleaning up, it was time to eat their creations. Her father-in-law loved to guess which herbs and spices she put in her dishes and loved to eat whatever she cooked.
On warm summer afternoons, she would sit on the front porch and read to her children. Within a short period of time, the porch stairs and front lawn would be filled with neighborhood children listening to her read. Cub scout den leader, Job's Daughters advisor & DeMolay Mom, tennis lessons and dance classes, she was always there for her kids. If someone was in need, she would be there to sit at a bedside, take someone's kids to afterschool programs, puppy sit, cook and clean for the sick or just listen. She didn't need to be asked, she didn't expect any thanks. She wasn't judgmental and if she couldn't find something positive to say about someone, she would say nothing.
When visiting her grandchildren, she could be found in the kitchen all night making confectionary "mice" for school treats, discussing teen magazines, attending swim meets and school "grandparents day" programs. She taught them cross country skiing and snowshoeing when they were toddlers and went to rock concerts with them when they were preteens.
She loved family, poetry, opera, Shakespeare, gardening and bluebirds. She gave her time and her love to all who knew her and took many confidences and many hearts with her when she left. She is loved, missed and remembered.
When we are dead and people weep for us and grieve,
Let it be because we touched their lives in a special way.
Let it not be said that life was good to us but rather
we were good to life.
We should not measure life by its length but by the
value it gave.
Lives that have been intimately intertwined,
can not possibly be separated without pain.
It is a miracle, nothing less than a miracle,
That flowers bloom every spring,
That living thing begets living thing
That we human beings immerge again and again
From ignorance to knowledge from hopelessness to
learning From sadness to joy.
It is a miracle nothing less than a miracle.
They are not dead, those who leave us this heritage of
remembered joy
They still live in our hearts in the happiness we knew,
In the dreams that we shared.
They still breathe in the lingering fragrance,
Windblown by their favourite flowers.
They still smile in the moonlight silver
And laugh in the sunlight sparkling gold
They still speak in the echoes of words we have heard
them say again and again.
They still dance in the rhythm of the grass and dance
in the branches of the trees They are not dead,
their memory is warm in our hearts,
comfort in our sorrow.
They are not apart from us but a part of us.
For love is eternal and those we love shall be with us
for all Eternity.
From the reading by Robyn Lenehan - Civil Celebrant
(NSW Australia)
