Cheryl, I will miss our fun times together watching movies and laughing , You loved it when I curled your hair and painted your nails.   I will miss having dinner with you, Cindy and Laura. I’am so thankful that I had the honor to know you and be  part of your life. I’ll  never forget your beautiful smile and laughter that filled the room.. You  will truly be missed my friend.❤️Jenn

(4/4)
As I’ve grown older, traveled for work, and started my own family, I’ve come to truly appreciate the depth of what my grandmother gave me. I will never forget the time she stiff-armed my father out of the way at the Portland airport, just to give me the biggest, most genuine hug I’ve ever received, where you nestle in and hold for the long embrace—one of those hugs that lets you know you’re truly home.

Living now in South Texas, I’ve become deeply inspired by the local Mexican heritage tradition of Día de los Muertos—it’s a celebration of family connections across generations—a time when families honor their departed loved ones by building altars decorated with marigolds, photographs, and their favorite foods. It’s a time for celebration, not mourning, much like today, as we remember my grandmother. Gram/Cheryl lived a life worth celebrating—a life filled with love, laughter, family, and unwavering kindness. Her presence, her lessons, and her love will continue to echo in all of us. And as we go forward, we carry her with us, in the way we live, in the traditions we pass down, and in the love we share with one another.

Remember Me - Coco
Remember me 
Though I have to say goodbye 
Remember me 
Don't let it make you cry

For even if I'm far away 
I hold you in my heart
I sing a secret song to you
Each night we are apart 

Remember me
Though I have to travel far
Remember me 
Each time you hear a sad guitar

Know that I'm with you 
The only way that I can be 
Until you're in my arms again
Remember me

(3/4)
Even in her quieter moments, she had an adventurous spirit—whether it was working with me on the family tree through Ancestry.com with the aid of her family history black book, or taking cat naps on the living room couch while rainforest sounds played. We’d take trips to the beach, go on camping adventures with Aunt Cindy, or drive out to her favorite places, always bringing back the biggest blueberry muffins you could imagine. She even encouraged my curiosity about our family history, as we worked together to trace our roots on Ancestry.com. She believed in knowing where we come from and the importance of passing that knowledge down to future generations. And I can’t forget the days at the farm when she’d pick me up after school, set me up at the table with learning activities, and encourage my curiosity. Though it came at a cost as I embarked on many projects at my grandfather's workbench including spray painting her antique table metallic gold —though she somehow forgave me for that one. 

She was always up for something fun. I remember ice skating by the back pond while she hosted little campfire parties nearby, or how she always made time to swim in the pool at Frost Hill, making sure the drinks and snacks were stocked for me and my cousins. We’d ride four-wheelers through the fields, playing house or pretending we had drive-thrus between the trees—those were the peak days of childhood.

(2/4)
There are so many small but precious moments etched into my heart. Whether it was the Sunday ritual of watching 60 Minutes, PBS’s Made in Maine, Early Edition, or Touched by an Angel, she never missed an episode of Dancing with the Stars. The soundtrack of her life was filled with the music of those multi-disk CD collections of the 1950s and 1960s from Time Life infomercials, with a particular love for Elvis. She could drift off to sleep on the couch, balancing a bowl of popcorn mid-air with one hand (defying all forms of gravity), while the comforting heat of the woodstove filled the room.

Gram was the matriarch that brought the family together, always alive with traditions, and she was the heartbeat of every holiday from Easter and especially Christmas Eve. Her joy and adventurous spirit showed in so many ways, like the trips to Reid State Park on Easter, picking up KFC family meals and sharing Dairy Queen (Woolwich on Route 1 and 127) on the way back home.  The food was endless - During Christmas her lobster stew, garnished with little oyster crackers, was a staple that no one could resist, no matter how full they were. the celery with cream cheese and olives, the hissing and fizz of freshly opened bottles of Pepsi. Her ability to bring family together, the door was always revolving with extended family & friends that evening, to create a space where laughter filled every corner, was her greatest gift.

(1/4)
In our modern world, we don’t often experience or fully appreciate the beauty of multigenerational living. Families can be spread across cities and states, making it easy to lose touch with the wisdom and influence of our elders. But I was fortunate—truly fortunate—to have lived alongside my grandmother, Cheryl, in many ways. I had the gift of sharing not only time, but daily routines, experiences, and life lessons that have stayed with me throughout the years which have shaped me into who I am today.

We were each other's sidekicks—starting many days together with breakfast (honey bunches of oats was one of her favorites), heading to the post office, chatting at the farm office, we laughed at my wise-guy jokes, shared lunch together, cooked homemade pies, and gardened tulips that she ordered in bulk from some magazine (and often forgot she ordered). I’ve added to my bucket list to visit the fields of Dutch tulips in Holland, Amsterdam. Observing her happiness as she read books, vast collection of Chicken Soup for the Soul, and flipping through Reader’s Digest in her lawn chair placed in the shade, these moments weren’t just part of the day—they were lessons in love, learning, and the simple joys of life.

I can still picture her on those early morning walks, bundled up in her bright yellow windbreaker, mittens, and sparkling white New Balance shoes, walking twice as fast as me, no matter her age (I still don’t know how she did it). I remember picking rhubarb in the garden and dipping it in sugar, something I still do today, out of both habit and fond memory.

To the Goddard family,

So sorry for your loss.😥

Lorraine Labbe
Colonial Gardens Resident

OBITUARY

Cheryl Ann Goddard

June 22, 1938 – September 19, 2024

Crosman Funeral Home

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