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Karen A. Marchand September 05, 1950 - March 16, 2005
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Loving Wife, Mother, & Grandmother



Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow; I am the diamond glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am gentle autumn rain. When you waken in the morning hush, I am the soft uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine in the night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there. I did not die.

Thoughts of Remembrance

Every blade in the field
Every leaf in the forest
Lays down its life in its season
As beautifully as it was taken up.
-Thoreau