I did not know Alma but her daughter Sondra spoke of her often. Sondra loved her mother very much. You could hear it in her voice. Love and respect. This is a poem my mother had in a bible when she passed.
When I come to the end of the road and the sun has set for me,
I want no rites in a gloom filled room; why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little...but not too long and not with your head bowed low;
Remember the love that we once shared
Miss me....but let me go!
For all this journey we must take and each must go alone;
It's all part of the Master's plan and a step to the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick of heart, go to the friends we know
Bury your sorrows in doing good deeds,
Miss me....but let me go.