Obit: Smith, Emma Matilda (1926 2004)
Contact: Ken Wood

Surnames: Smith, Gorr, Verch, Kilty, Schade, Gripentrog, Drake

----Source: Marshfield News Herald (Marshfield, Wood, County Wis.) Friday, 31 Dec. 2004

----Smith, Emma Matilda (3 Oct. 1907 30 Dec. 2004)

Emma M. Smith, 97, died Dec. 30, 2004.

Funeral services will be at 11 a.m., Jan. 1, 2005, at Hansen Funeral Home.

Visitation will be from 10 a.m. to service time Saturday at the funeral home.

Emma Matilda Smith was born October 3, 1907, at Stratford to Albert and Lena (Gorr) Verch, the eldest of seven children.

On June 14, 1926, she married Gerald Young Smith. For 30 years of their married life, Gerald and Emma made their home in the state of Missouri and made many trips back to Wisconsin every summer to visit relatives. Gerald and Emma had no children together but several pets were always kept in their midst. The most noted of these were their dogs, Skippy, Tiny, Susie, and their parrot "Cocca" who kept company with Emma for more than 40 years.

After Gerald passed away in 1966, Emma moved back to Wisconsin and resided in a home located near Stratford. There Emma opened her heart and her home to Lena, her aging mother, and took care of her until her death. The infirmities of old age caused Emma to take up residency at the Clark County Health Care Center for the past seven years.

Emma is survived by one brother, Ellsworth (Arlowene) Verch of Stratford; three sisters-in-law, Mabel Verch of Marshfield, Irene Verch of Spencer and Millie Verch of Argonne; her caregivers, greatniece Linda Kilty, and niece, Berdine Schade, as well as numerous other nieces and nephews.

Emma was predeceased by her husband; her parents; two sisters, Adeline (Elmer) Gripentrog and Bertha (Sarge) Drake; and three brothers, Otto, Paul and Norbert.

Our dear Emma will be sadly missed by all who knew and loved her.


Author Unknown

I am standing upon the shore.

A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength and I stand and watch her until she hangs like a speck of white cloud out where the sea and sky meet and mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says, "There. She is gone." Gone Where? Gone from my sight, That is all.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

She is just as true in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side, and just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destination.

And at that same moment when someone at my side says "There. She is gone." Other eyes are watching her coming and other voices take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"