I was rummaging through one of my draws the other day and came across a little gray ring box. In it I found the two rings that you gave me when I was little and suddenly it was like I was back at your kitchen table listening to your every word as you told me stories. You were the best storyteller. You were a great writer too, though it was sometimes difficult to read the letters you sent me. I usually had my mom or dad read them to me. I somewhat remember the story you told me about the pearl ring. That it had been your sister's, I think, and that she had left it when she got married. You also told me of another ring, one that I do not have. The other ring was your grandfather's (Michael Daly). It was a man's ring that he bought in Ireland when his father Patrick Daly took him back to their homeland for a visit. You said that it had something engraved in it on the inside but I can't for the life of me remember what was inscribed. I guess that's what I get for not bringing a pad and paper to your house when I visited. I remember every time I visited you in Macon I always came home with a doll. Sometimes you would have bought one for me because you said it looked like me or you would have one waiting for me with a story behind it. And on occasion you would tell me to go into the room to the right of the living room and pick out a doll. I remember picking out a blonde doll with blue eyes and a black dress. You told me that it was a Blonde Betty Boop doll and that you weren't sure it if really was a Betty Boop but that the man who sold it to you told you it was. I did some research and turns out it's not a Betty Boop doll. It's actually a 1960s Japanese pose doll. But either way, I love it. I still have all of my dolls and I remember a few stories. I just want to let you know that I do appreciate them. And I appreciate you. I heard that you were sick and I kept putting it off to come see you. Then, and I still remember this moment, one morning when I was brushing my teeth hurrying to get ready for school, Mom called me from downstairs in the living room. So I leaned out of the bathroom some to see her over the balcony and she told me that you had passed away. It didn't hit me then. No. In a sense it still hasn't hit me. It doesn't feel like you're gone. And maybe it's because we weren't as close as I wish we would have been. But even though I didn't get to say goodbye before you were gone, I'm not sad. I don't feel guilty. I feel thankful for knowing you at all. I feel overjoyed for being the great-granddaughter of such a brilliant,wise, quick-witted intensely intuitive storyteller who has embarked on her next adventure. In my mind you're not gone. You're still at your house in Macon sitting in that kitchen with that parrot and a group of people gathered around the kitchen table listening to your stories. Some might say you're a "pack rat,"and maybe they're right, but I believe you're an extraordinary person with a knack or better yet a gift for seeing things that others aren't able to see. You see the beauty in so-called "junk" and you tell the stories of these rings, dolls, etc. because they can't. You're like a grenade of imagination when it comes to storytelling. The details of your stories map out in my mind and paint a picture so vivid it could be real. The way you would get so into your story like the rest of the world no longer existed and that clever look you get in your eye that challenged a challenge and the fire in your eyes that craved knowledge and thirsted for answers--You're extraordinary Mother Rose. You really are. And I love you. Until the Lord takes me to stay, you're just a prayer away. 
Love always,
Haley

Bitter, sweet the memories are hard to beat.

The fun the laughter the long days after.

No special words can exspress the love that will be missed
I cherish each day with a sealed kiss.

Sleep for a while and wake soon.

Even thought we are apart your memories will live on in my heart!
Bye "Grandmother"
Love you!
Christy (littlegirl)

Bitter, sweet the memories are hard to beat.

The fun the laughter the long days after.

No special words can exspress the love that will be missed.
I cherish each day with a sealed kiss.

Sleep for a while and wake soon.

Even if we are apart your memories will live on in my heart!
Bye "Grandmother"
Love you!
Christy (littlegirl)

In My Pocket

I have memories in my pocket.
They rattle among the change.

My memories of you are treasures I carry wherever I go.

They are stored in bits and pieces, parts of a beautiful whole
They give me comfort when I think I am alone.

Yes, I have memories in my pocket, like so much other stuff I keep there.

But of all the treasures I have, it’s the memories of you that are the most precious.

Dear Rowena and family:
On behalf of the Mount de Sales Alumni Association, our thoughts and prayers are with you and your family during this difficult time.  
Lisa Hadarits Kersey
Director of Alumni Relations

Pat and Rowena,Our thoughts and hearts are with you. Truly,the love and memories of a Mother lives on long after her presence is gone.I know she must have been a very special person, because you are.What a wonderful hope that soon she will awaken from sleep and we will see her again in a world that is new.In the mean time I am sure you will sadly miss her.With Sincere Sympathy and Warm Christian Love, Victor and Blanche.

OBITUARY

Rose Daly McNeely

October 20, 1916 – March 10, 2010

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