Esther Beth Obrin
In April of 1998, after 79 rich, full years, Esther Obrin pased away, leaving behind two sons, two daughter's in-law, and three grandchildren who would miss her very much. We share this loss with her sisters, her nieces and nephews, and her numerous friends. She is never far from our thoughts.
As a daughter, as a sister, as a wife, as a mother, as a mother-in-law, as a Nanna, as a friend. You touched me.
From beginnings on Mesa Avenue, to dances at the old Arcadia, to school at Central, to working a Kress, Montgomery Ward, to Dist. 60 to retirement. You touched me.
You touched me. To lend a hand when I was young, when I was hurt, when I was unsure, when I was wrong, when I was right, you touched me.
As an Aunt who somehow knew what was needed in times of need, as a neighborhood mother, where everyone was welcome.
You touched me. As a mother, as a mother-in-law as a nanna, you always somehow knew what to say. You also knew when it was better just to let things go without saying a word.
You touched me. As a gardener who loved "being out in the yard" to a church member and volunteer. As a spaghetti cooker, struddle maker, a doggy sitter, a regular visitor to Cripple Creek.
You were a friend, a sounding board, a rock. You are now realizing the reward for a wonderful, event filled, hard life. It was an honor and a privilege to have known and loved you. You will be missed but not forgotten.
YOU TOUCHED ME.
I know you are not alive but you are in my thoughts. Thursday you were not there to pick us up, so I started to cry. It seemed like it was a fairy tale. It seemed like you weren't dead. You were a great Nana. She wants all of us to be strong. We played a lot of games. She looks peaceful and resting. She did not suffer or struggle. I love you so much. You will always be my nana. I feel so guilty that I was not there. You will be missed but not forgotten. Thank you so much for what you did.
Jackie Obrin (Age 10)
These are the things I liked about my nana.
Her spaghetti. She would cook it every Thursday. Also her strudel she would cook it for a holiday. She would understand if I had a problem at school. Her hugs they would always make me feel loved. Her garden she would let me pick flowers for my mother. She would always play jump rope. We would jump rope until our dad would come and get us. You will be missed, but not forgotten.
Jennie Obrin (Age 10)