June Foster was the daughter of Nathan Foster and Rose Egloff. Her siblings were Louise Foster, Betty Foster, Nathan, Jack Fosters her brothers. She had three half siblings, Helen, Rose and Charles Smith
She married James E Lively in 1945 in Union Co Ky. They had two children James E Lively who passed in 1982. and a daughter Linda Lively Yuan.
Survived by two granddaughters leah Sailer and Stacey Sailer.
Four grandchildren. Cecilly Sophia ,Aniesa and Corbin.
My mother loved boating at kentucky Lake. and taking care of their compound of deer and wildlife. She was a domestic engineer.
It was always told since she came from a large family she was the sparkle in her fathers eye aka spoiled. I love you and miss you but know you are in Heaven bossing my Dad
Her Eulogy:
I didn’t much like June Lively when I first met her back in 1999. In fact, I had always wanted to threaten her with the warning that I would be delivering her eulogy.
I always envisioned myself getting up here and telling you all that when you don’t have something nice to say about someone you shouldn’t say anything at all and then just sitting down.
I knew I couldn’t get away with that. Linda’d kill me! So I started writing and what came out on my first attempt surprised even me at how angry I had become at her over the years. It took additional thought and reflection to recognized that over the last few years, I had seen a different June emerge or maybe we both just mellowed over the passage of time. Whatever the reason, I decided that she deserves better treatment than she often gave.
June was a child of Depression Era Howell. She was her Dad’s favorite, I am told, and she was spoiled and so would she be for the rest of her life. But despite this spoiled childhood, she caught the eye of a young Jim Lively and at the age of 16, they eloped to begin an adventure that would last for 55 years.
To keep a long story short, you all know June. She had some rough hard edges and a sharp tongue and wasn’t afraid to use it. Like her daughter and grand daughters after her, she had a strong will and set ideas about the ways things should be. Like all parents and grand parents you do as you were raised and , almost subconsciously, the annual school clothes shopping trips and trips to the lake sometimes favor one over the other. June played favorites with her grandchildren, even as she had been treated. People are often short sighted and petty in their youth. You just hope that they make up for it in the end. Judging from her off spring, much good can come of learning from a parent’s shortcomings.
Over the years, as all Westsiders do, I’ve learned to identify myself by explaining who I’m related to so I’ve talked to a lot of West side people who knew her and without exception, they all have stories. You all have those memories and I encourage you to share them with each other because you’re not going to see another like June Lively.
I want to share with you some of mine.
Some people sort of enjoyed getting her goat because they just loved to see her react. Jerry David was famous for it. After Jim died in 1999, he was always calling her up asking her to go out with him just to hear her response that I can’t repeat here.
Some people still remember when she didn’t quite beat the train on Hogue road, or when she shot her 410 a little too close, as she put it, to one of the Canadian geese that were annoying her.
Others recount her nickname, “Flash” for all the jewelry she always wore when she was buzzing around town collecting old bread and lettuce for her deer.
She never did figure out who among us started to call her the Queen. She conducted quite an investigation into that one, but we never gave you up, Aniesa.
I’m sorry to say that much of what I remember involved her declining health, but even some of those moments were memorably strange.
There was that unforgettable trip to St. Louis for her eye surgery when she had to stay face down in the back of our van for the trip back and for 2 weeks after. I don’t even want to tell you what I heard on that one.
Then there was the Eastside ear nose and throat doctor who kept getting distracted by her big honkin diamonds and couldn’t keep his mind on his ear exam.
For a while it seemed that she was deliberately trying to sabotage our attempts to care for her. We got her a power recliner, and she wouldn’t sit in it. We arranged for a 2-room apartment at Solarbron with a nice bedroom suite, and then she only wanted to sit in the recliner. I even sawed the legs of the bed so she could use it but she wouldn’t. When it was no longer safe for her to get up on her own, she would, and broke two hips within a month. “They’re my hips, and I’ll break ‘em if I want to,” she said. “If I had another, I could break that one too!” We moved her stuff back and forth between Solarbron and Pine Haven where she’d rehab till we didn’t know where her stuff was.
At Solarbron, she continued, with the help of a small conspiracy, Tina, to smoke even though it made her breathing worse. She’d complain about how dizzy it made her but that wouldn’t stop her. Nobody could. With June, sometimes you just had to go with the flow.
Eventually, she had to go to Pine Haven for good, and her world got pretty small. We got her a big flat screen TV and that pretty much ended her travels even at Pine Haven. She’d tell us “why should I get up when I’ve got a home theater in here?” Her appetite revolved around Rice Krispies, Rice Krispie treats, Coca Cola and anything covered in chocolate.
But here’s the thing. Even as her physical world got smaller and her physical frustration grew, her emotional and spiritual world got bigger too.
It grew to restore her faith, long ago pushed to the background.
It grew to include her daughter whom she had once turned away from and who so mightily struggled to provide for her care. It grew to include her grand daughters who struggled with their own memories to include her in their own lives. It grew to include her young great grand children who though not understanding all that was happening, will always remember going to the Easter egg hunts with her at the window watching them.
It grew to forever include her best and most faithful friend and sister in spirit, Clara Diefenbach
And it grew to include me, a Johnny come-lately, who grew to care for her in spite of her past deeds, foibles and eccentricities. She was unsinkable and opinionated to the end. That was just June.
Linda sat down the other day and wrote down some of her thoughts:
She knew her life was ending these past few days, and all of her family and friends were there to make sure she was not alone. Her biggest fear in her life at the end was being alone. And now she will be with my Dad and she will be telling him what to do again. I asked her two weeks ago if she was planning on leaving me and she said yes. Her caregiver told me that she was always afraid of being alone and that night before her passing she said that she was afraid to go through the light. Now I know what her biggest fear was. Passing through he light and joining my father. Now she is at peace; no more pain and suffering.
One last story, that I think reveals her last hidden thoughts. At the moment of her death, her last act was to raise her arm and embrace her daughter leaning over her. We thought she had already passed, but as in life, June had that last surprise for us as she finally came to terms with her family.
Jim once told us that soon it would be our turn to take care of her. We did our best to do so. And now we commend her back to his care just a couple days shy of what will be their 64th anniversary.
Together again forever.
Goodbye June. And thank you all for being here today.
She married James E Lively in 1945 in Union Co Ky. They had two children James E Lively who passed in 1982. and a daughter Linda Lively Yuan.
Survived by two granddaughters leah Sailer and Stacey Sailer.
Four grandchildren. Cecilly Sophia ,Aniesa and Corbin.
My mother loved boating at kentucky Lake. and taking care of their compound of deer and wildlife. She was a domestic engineer.
It was always told since she came from a large family she was the sparkle in her fathers eye aka spoiled. I love you and miss you but know you are in Heaven bossing my Dad
Her Eulogy:
I didn’t much like June Lively when I first met her back in 1999. In fact, I had always wanted to threaten her with the warning that I would be delivering her eulogy.
I always envisioned myself getting up here and telling you all that when you don’t have something nice to say about someone you shouldn’t say anything at all and then just sitting down.
I knew I couldn’t get away with that. Linda’d kill me! So I started writing and what came out on my first attempt surprised even me at how angry I had become at her over the years. It took additional thought and reflection to recognized that over the last few years, I had seen a different June emerge or maybe we both just mellowed over the passage of time. Whatever the reason, I decided that she deserves better treatment than she often gave.
June was a child of Depression Era Howell. She was her Dad’s favorite, I am told, and she was spoiled and so would she be for the rest of her life. But despite this spoiled childhood, she caught the eye of a young Jim Lively and at the age of 16, they eloped to begin an adventure that would last for 55 years.
To keep a long story short, you all know June. She had some rough hard edges and a sharp tongue and wasn’t afraid to use it. Like her daughter and grand daughters after her, she had a strong will and set ideas about the ways things should be. Like all parents and grand parents you do as you were raised and , almost subconsciously, the annual school clothes shopping trips and trips to the lake sometimes favor one over the other. June played favorites with her grandchildren, even as she had been treated. People are often short sighted and petty in their youth. You just hope that they make up for it in the end. Judging from her off spring, much good can come of learning from a parent’s shortcomings.
Over the years, as all Westsiders do, I’ve learned to identify myself by explaining who I’m related to so I’ve talked to a lot of West side people who knew her and without exception, they all have stories. You all have those memories and I encourage you to share them with each other because you’re not going to see another like June Lively.
I want to share with you some of mine.
Some people sort of enjoyed getting her goat because they just loved to see her react. Jerry David was famous for it. After Jim died in 1999, he was always calling her up asking her to go out with him just to hear her response that I can’t repeat here.
Some people still remember when she didn’t quite beat the train on Hogue road, or when she shot her 410 a little too close, as she put it, to one of the Canadian geese that were annoying her.
Others recount her nickname, “Flash” for all the jewelry she always wore when she was buzzing around town collecting old bread and lettuce for her deer.
She never did figure out who among us started to call her the Queen. She conducted quite an investigation into that one, but we never gave you up, Aniesa.
I’m sorry to say that much of what I remember involved her declining health, but even some of those moments were memorably strange.
There was that unforgettable trip to St. Louis for her eye surgery when she had to stay face down in the back of our van for the trip back and for 2 weeks after. I don’t even want to tell you what I heard on that one.
Then there was the Eastside ear nose and throat doctor who kept getting distracted by her big honkin diamonds and couldn’t keep his mind on his ear exam.
For a while it seemed that she was deliberately trying to sabotage our attempts to care for her. We got her a power recliner, and she wouldn’t sit in it. We arranged for a 2-room apartment at Solarbron with a nice bedroom suite, and then she only wanted to sit in the recliner. I even sawed the legs of the bed so she could use it but she wouldn’t. When it was no longer safe for her to get up on her own, she would, and broke two hips within a month. “They’re my hips, and I’ll break ‘em if I want to,” she said. “If I had another, I could break that one too!” We moved her stuff back and forth between Solarbron and Pine Haven where she’d rehab till we didn’t know where her stuff was.
At Solarbron, she continued, with the help of a small conspiracy, Tina, to smoke even though it made her breathing worse. She’d complain about how dizzy it made her but that wouldn’t stop her. Nobody could. With June, sometimes you just had to go with the flow.
Eventually, she had to go to Pine Haven for good, and her world got pretty small. We got her a big flat screen TV and that pretty much ended her travels even at Pine Haven. She’d tell us “why should I get up when I’ve got a home theater in here?” Her appetite revolved around Rice Krispies, Rice Krispie treats, Coca Cola and anything covered in chocolate.
But here’s the thing. Even as her physical world got smaller and her physical frustration grew, her emotional and spiritual world got bigger too.
It grew to restore her faith, long ago pushed to the background.
It grew to include her daughter whom she had once turned away from and who so mightily struggled to provide for her care. It grew to include her grand daughters who struggled with their own memories to include her in their own lives. It grew to include her young great grand children who though not understanding all that was happening, will always remember going to the Easter egg hunts with her at the window watching them.
It grew to forever include her best and most faithful friend and sister in spirit, Clara Diefenbach
And it grew to include me, a Johnny come-lately, who grew to care for her in spite of her past deeds, foibles and eccentricities. She was unsinkable and opinionated to the end. That was just June.
Linda sat down the other day and wrote down some of her thoughts:
She knew her life was ending these past few days, and all of her family and friends were there to make sure she was not alone. Her biggest fear in her life at the end was being alone. And now she will be with my Dad and she will be telling him what to do again. I asked her two weeks ago if she was planning on leaving me and she said yes. Her caregiver told me that she was always afraid of being alone and that night before her passing she said that she was afraid to go through the light. Now I know what her biggest fear was. Passing through he light and joining my father. Now she is at peace; no more pain and suffering.
One last story, that I think reveals her last hidden thoughts. At the moment of her death, her last act was to raise her arm and embrace her daughter leaning over her. We thought she had already passed, but as in life, June had that last surprise for us as she finally came to terms with her family.
Jim once told us that soon it would be our turn to take care of her. We did our best to do so. And now we commend her back to his care just a couple days shy of what will be their 64th anniversary.
Together again forever.
Goodbye June. And thank you all for being here today.
June Foster was the daughter of Nathan Foster and Rose Egloff. Her siblings were Louise Foster, Betty Foster, Nathan, Jack Fosters her brothers. She had three half siblings, Helen, Rose and Charles Smith
She married James E Lively in 1945 in Union Co Ky. They had two children James E Lively who passed in 1982. and a daughter Linda Lively Yuan.
Survived by two granddaughters leah Sailer and Stacey Sailer.
Four grandchildren. Cecilly Sophia ,Aniesa and Corbin.
My mother loved boating at kentucky Lake. and taking care of their compound of deer and wildlife. She was a domestic engineer.
It was always told since she came from a large family she was the sparkle in her fathers eye aka spoiled. I love you and miss you but know you are in Heaven bossing my Dad
Her Eulogy:
I didn’t much like June Lively when I first met her back in 1999. In fact, I had always wanted to threaten her with the warning that I would be delivering her eulogy.
I always envisioned myself getting up here and telling you all that when you don’t have something nice to say about someone you shouldn’t say anything at all and then just sitting down.
I knew I couldn’t get away with that. Linda’d kill me! So I started writing and what came out on my first attempt surprised even me at how angry I had become at her over the years. It took additional thought and reflection to recognized that over the last few years, I had seen a different June emerge or maybe we both just mellowed over the passage of time. Whatever the reason, I decided that she deserves better treatment than she often gave.
June was a child of Depression Era Howell. She was her Dad’s favorite, I am told, and she was spoiled and so would she be for the rest of her life. But despite this spoiled childhood, she caught the eye of a young Jim Lively and at the age of 16, they eloped to begin an adventure that would last for 55 years.
To keep a long story short, you all know June. She had some rough hard edges and a sharp tongue and wasn’t afraid to use it. Like her daughter and grand daughters after her, she had a strong will and set ideas about the ways things should be. Like all parents and grand parents you do as you were raised and , almost subconsciously, the annual school clothes shopping trips and trips to the lake sometimes favor one over the other. June played favorites with her grandchildren, even as she had been treated. People are often short sighted and petty in their youth. You just hope that they make up for it in the end. Judging from her off spring, much good can come of learning from a parent’s shortcomings.
Over the years, as all Westsiders do, I’ve learned to identify myself by explaining who I’m related to so I’ve talked to a lot of West side people who knew her and without exception, they all have stories. You all have those memories and I encourage you to share them with each other because you’re not going to see another like June Lively.
I want to share with you some of mine.
Some people sort of enjoyed getting her goat because they just loved to see her react. Jerry David was famous for it. After Jim died in 1999, he was always calling her up asking her to go out with him just to hear her response that I can’t repeat here.
Some people still remember when she didn’t quite beat the train on Hogue road, or when she shot her 410 a little too close, as she put it, to one of the Canadian geese that were annoying her.
Others recount her nickname, “Flash” for all the jewelry she always wore when she was buzzing around town collecting old bread and lettuce for her deer.
She never did figure out who among us started to call her the Queen. She conducted quite an investigation into that one, but we never gave you up, Aniesa.
I’m sorry to say that much of what I remember involved her declining health, but even some of those moments were memorably strange.
There was that unforgettable trip to St. Louis for her eye surgery when she had to stay face down in the back of our van for the trip back and for 2 weeks after. I don’t even want to tell you what I heard on that one.
Then there was the Eastside ear nose and throat doctor who kept getting distracted by her big honkin diamonds and couldn’t keep his mind on his ear exam.
For a while it seemed that she was deliberately trying to sabotage our attempts to care for her. We got her a power recliner, and she wouldn’t sit in it. We arranged for a 2-room apartment at Solarbron with a nice bedroom suite, and then she only wanted to sit in the recliner. I even sawed the legs of the bed so she could use it but she wouldn’t. When it was no longer safe for her to get up on her own, she would, and broke two hips within a month. “They’re my hips, and I’ll break ‘em if I want to,” she said. “If I had another, I could break that one too!” We moved her stuff back and forth between Solarbron and Pine Haven where she’d rehab till we didn’t know where her stuff was.
At Solarbron, she continued, with the help of a small conspiracy, Tina, to smoke even though it made her breathing worse. She’d complain about how dizzy it made her but that wouldn’t stop her. Nobody could. With June, sometimes you just had to go with the flow.
Eventually, she had to go to Pine Haven for good, and her world got pretty small. We got her a big flat screen TV and that pretty much ended her travels even at Pine Haven. She’d tell us “why should I get up when I’ve got a home theater in here?” Her appetite revolved around Rice Krispies, Rice Krispie treats, Coca Cola and anything covered in chocolate.
But here’s the thing. Even as her physical world got smaller and her physical frustration grew, her emotional and spiritual world got bigger too.
It grew to restore her faith, long ago pushed to the background.
It grew to include her daughter whom she had once turned away from and who so mightily struggled to provide for her care. It grew to include her grand daughters who struggled with their own memories to include her in their own lives. It grew to include her young great grand children who though not understanding all that was happening, will always remember going to the Easter egg hunts with her at the window watching them.
It grew to forever include her best and most faithful friend and sister in spirit, Clara Diefenbach
And it grew to include me, a Johnny come-lately, who grew to care for her in spite of her past deeds, foibles and eccentricities. She was unsinkable and opinionated to the end. That was just June.
Linda sat down the other day and wrote down some of her thoughts:
She knew her life was ending these past few days, and all of her family and friends were there to make sure she was not alone. Her biggest fear in her life at the end was being alone. And now she will be with my Dad and she will be telling him what to do again. I asked her two weeks ago if she was planning on leaving me and she said yes. Her caregiver told me that she was always afraid of being alone and that night before her passing she said that she was afraid to go through the light. Now I know what her biggest fear was. Passing through he light and joining my father. Now she is at peace; no more pain and suffering.
One last story, that I think reveals her last hidden thoughts. At the moment of her death, her last act was to raise her arm and embrace her daughter leaning over her. We thought she had already passed, but as in life, June had that last surprise for us as she finally came to terms with her family.
Jim once told us that soon it would be our turn to take care of her. We did our best to do so. And now we commend her back to his care just a couple days shy of what will be their 64th anniversary.
Together again forever.
Goodbye June. And thank you all for being here today.
She married James E Lively in 1945 in Union Co Ky. They had two children James E Lively who passed in 1982. and a daughter Linda Lively Yuan.
Survived by two granddaughters leah Sailer and Stacey Sailer.
Four grandchildren. Cecilly Sophia ,Aniesa and Corbin.
My mother loved boating at kentucky Lake. and taking care of their compound of deer and wildlife. She was a domestic engineer.
It was always told since she came from a large family she was the sparkle in her fathers eye aka spoiled. I love you and miss you but know you are in Heaven bossing my Dad
Her Eulogy:
I didn’t much like June Lively when I first met her back in 1999. In fact, I had always wanted to threaten her with the warning that I would be delivering her eulogy.
I always envisioned myself getting up here and telling you all that when you don’t have something nice to say about someone you shouldn’t say anything at all and then just sitting down.
I knew I couldn’t get away with that. Linda’d kill me! So I started writing and what came out on my first attempt surprised even me at how angry I had become at her over the years. It took additional thought and reflection to recognized that over the last few years, I had seen a different June emerge or maybe we both just mellowed over the passage of time. Whatever the reason, I decided that she deserves better treatment than she often gave.
June was a child of Depression Era Howell. She was her Dad’s favorite, I am told, and she was spoiled and so would she be for the rest of her life. But despite this spoiled childhood, she caught the eye of a young Jim Lively and at the age of 16, they eloped to begin an adventure that would last for 55 years.
To keep a long story short, you all know June. She had some rough hard edges and a sharp tongue and wasn’t afraid to use it. Like her daughter and grand daughters after her, she had a strong will and set ideas about the ways things should be. Like all parents and grand parents you do as you were raised and , almost subconsciously, the annual school clothes shopping trips and trips to the lake sometimes favor one over the other. June played favorites with her grandchildren, even as she had been treated. People are often short sighted and petty in their youth. You just hope that they make up for it in the end. Judging from her off spring, much good can come of learning from a parent’s shortcomings.
Over the years, as all Westsiders do, I’ve learned to identify myself by explaining who I’m related to so I’ve talked to a lot of West side people who knew her and without exception, they all have stories. You all have those memories and I encourage you to share them with each other because you’re not going to see another like June Lively.
I want to share with you some of mine.
Some people sort of enjoyed getting her goat because they just loved to see her react. Jerry David was famous for it. After Jim died in 1999, he was always calling her up asking her to go out with him just to hear her response that I can’t repeat here.
Some people still remember when she didn’t quite beat the train on Hogue road, or when she shot her 410 a little too close, as she put it, to one of the Canadian geese that were annoying her.
Others recount her nickname, “Flash” for all the jewelry she always wore when she was buzzing around town collecting old bread and lettuce for her deer.
She never did figure out who among us started to call her the Queen. She conducted quite an investigation into that one, but we never gave you up, Aniesa.
I’m sorry to say that much of what I remember involved her declining health, but even some of those moments were memorably strange.
There was that unforgettable trip to St. Louis for her eye surgery when she had to stay face down in the back of our van for the trip back and for 2 weeks after. I don’t even want to tell you what I heard on that one.
Then there was the Eastside ear nose and throat doctor who kept getting distracted by her big honkin diamonds and couldn’t keep his mind on his ear exam.
For a while it seemed that she was deliberately trying to sabotage our attempts to care for her. We got her a power recliner, and she wouldn’t sit in it. We arranged for a 2-room apartment at Solarbron with a nice bedroom suite, and then she only wanted to sit in the recliner. I even sawed the legs of the bed so she could use it but she wouldn’t. When it was no longer safe for her to get up on her own, she would, and broke two hips within a month. “They’re my hips, and I’ll break ‘em if I want to,” she said. “If I had another, I could break that one too!” We moved her stuff back and forth between Solarbron and Pine Haven where she’d rehab till we didn’t know where her stuff was.
At Solarbron, she continued, with the help of a small conspiracy, Tina, to smoke even though it made her breathing worse. She’d complain about how dizzy it made her but that wouldn’t stop her. Nobody could. With June, sometimes you just had to go with the flow.
Eventually, she had to go to Pine Haven for good, and her world got pretty small. We got her a big flat screen TV and that pretty much ended her travels even at Pine Haven. She’d tell us “why should I get up when I’ve got a home theater in here?” Her appetite revolved around Rice Krispies, Rice Krispie treats, Coca Cola and anything covered in chocolate.
But here’s the thing. Even as her physical world got smaller and her physical frustration grew, her emotional and spiritual world got bigger too.
It grew to restore her faith, long ago pushed to the background.
It grew to include her daughter whom she had once turned away from and who so mightily struggled to provide for her care. It grew to include her grand daughters who struggled with their own memories to include her in their own lives. It grew to include her young great grand children who though not understanding all that was happening, will always remember going to the Easter egg hunts with her at the window watching them.
It grew to forever include her best and most faithful friend and sister in spirit, Clara Diefenbach
And it grew to include me, a Johnny come-lately, who grew to care for her in spite of her past deeds, foibles and eccentricities. She was unsinkable and opinionated to the end. That was just June.
Linda sat down the other day and wrote down some of her thoughts:
She knew her life was ending these past few days, and all of her family and friends were there to make sure she was not alone. Her biggest fear in her life at the end was being alone. And now she will be with my Dad and she will be telling him what to do again. I asked her two weeks ago if she was planning on leaving me and she said yes. Her caregiver told me that she was always afraid of being alone and that night before her passing she said that she was afraid to go through the light. Now I know what her biggest fear was. Passing through he light and joining my father. Now she is at peace; no more pain and suffering.
One last story, that I think reveals her last hidden thoughts. At the moment of her death, her last act was to raise her arm and embrace her daughter leaning over her. We thought she had already passed, but as in life, June had that last surprise for us as she finally came to terms with her family.
Jim once told us that soon it would be our turn to take care of her. We did our best to do so. And now we commend her back to his care just a couple days shy of what will be their 64th anniversary.
Together again forever.
Goodbye June. And thank you all for being here today.
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