*note, her ashes are to be interned L.I. National Cemetery in the near future.
Audrey Florence Best (nee Ballard) was born in Yonkers, New York and died in Severna Park, Maryland after suffering from emphysema for years. She was preceeded in death by her husband James Marshall Best, who passed away in 1970. She left behind two children and five grandchildren.
But that doesn't give you an idea of who she was and what she loved, and why she was so special to our family. Her life was one filled with heartache. An only child until 1926, when her sister was born, she was excited to have a sibling. That joy, however, was short lived. Little Edith Vivian died, and unfortunately, her parents placed the blame squarely on her then eight-year-old shoulders. By the end of the year, she would watch - horrified - as her maternal Grandmother committed suicide. These early deaths left a mark on her soul and they plagued her throughout the rest of her life. Married to James Marshall Best in 1940, she found joy in her two children, Diana Lynn and James Marshall, Jr. (born in 1944 and 1947). During the War, while her husband was away, she moved in with her parents and wrote her husband regularly, sending pictures of their daughter, born in December of 1944. It would be two years before he got to see her in person. Her husband passed away in 1970, just a few years after the death of her father. She found happiness and solace in her children, who went on to give her five grandchildren - David (b. 1971), Scott (b. 1974), Kelly (b. 1976), Katie (b. 1983) and Lizzie (b. 1986).
For most of her life, she called New York home, but left in 1977, when her daughter's family moved to Maryland. Missing her independence, she moved back to New York, then back to Maryland, before heading to Florida. Missing her family too much, she ultimately came back to Maryland and lived with us until 1994, when she once again moved out, but staying within the same area. When her illness became too much and she was frightened to be on her own, she moved back. Having her live with us was a wonderful treat, and I can remember playing cards with her or taking her to the movies when my parents were otherwise engaged.
The most special times though, were 11 p.m. every night when I would give her her breathing treatments. As I did this, we would watch the Golden Girls together. It was our time, and even now I miss that. At 11pm each night I feel a pang. She will be forever missed by those who knew and loved her.
Parents:
Mother: Adeline Nellie LUSIGNAN
Father: Harry Cecil BALLARD
Siblings
1. Edith Vivian BALLARD - who died two months after her first birthday.
2. David Lusignan BALLARD.
Little Edith passed away far too soon. With her violet eyes and pretty smile, people often told her parents that she was just too pretty to be alive. Apparently, they were right. After battling a particularly nasty cold that left her hospitalized, Edith seemed to be on the mend. Unfortunately, it turned into pneumonia. The doctors assured her worried parents that she would make a speedy recovery. They couldn't have been more wrong. Her death haunted her parents, and especially her older sister, Audrey.
Her father, Harry, was so distraught by her death that he slept by her as she was laid in-waiting at the family house. When the time came to bury her, Harry wouldn't allow the other pall-bearers to carry her tiny coffin, opting instead to carry it himself. Her mother, Ada (as she was called) reacted quite differently and found herself the victim of a laughing "spree" of sorts. She then internalized her grief and rarely spoke about her lost little girl to anyone.
Harry and Edith, father and daughter, seemed to be uniquely connected on a different plane of existence. He didn't believe the doctors when they told her everything would be all right in the end, but relented and went out with his wife and some family friends to "celebrate" her "quick recovery." As the people around him talked about other, happier things, Harry sat lost in thought. Without warning, he jumped to his feet and announced, "Edith's calling me." His dinner guests looked at him as though he bore three heads. Edith was calling him? Such things, they believed, just weren't possible. He had shared this unique bond with his grandmother - who always seemed to know when he would show up on the Isle of Wight, in England. He had immigrated from England to America as a boy of 8, but took on the life of a Merchant Marine. He often traveled back to England, but had no way of contacting her to announce his arrival. Yet every time he came home, she had a pot of tea and a plate of buiscuts waiting for him.
Harry bolted from the table, pausing long enough to announce that he was going to the hospital - visiting hours be damned. He burst into her room just in time to hold her hand as she passed away. Doctors didn't know how he wound up there seeing as how they hadn't yet made the call to tell of her sudden, unexpected decline.
The loss of little Edith had lasting effects on those who had loved her. In a fit of grief stricken rage, Harry told his oldest, surviving daughter (Audrey) that it was her fault that Edith had died. She had, after all, brought home the cold that led to pneumonia. No one took into account my Grandmother's pain and confusion. Not quite a year before, she had witnessed the suicide of her beloved grandmother, Mary BEAUDRY, née Hannah. She had been married once before - to the man she truly loved, Moise Trefle LUSIGNAN.
My grandmother came to hate the colors black and purple as those were the primary colors that were put across the front doors of those who had recently suffered a death in the family. The smell of some flowers left her gagging, calling back memories of a too-small casket and the loss that nearly destroyed her family. Later, when she spoke of Edith, it was always with a half-dreamy look - as if she was trying recall what life had been like Before. As she lay dying, I told my Grandmother that she'd once again be reunited with her beloved parents and sister, even though it meant leaving behind her brother and his family, as well as her own children and their families.
Audrey Florence Best (nee Ballard) was born in Yonkers, New York and died in Severna Park, Maryland after suffering from emphysema for years. She was preceeded in death by her husband James Marshall Best, who passed away in 1970. She left behind two children and five grandchildren.
But that doesn't give you an idea of who she was and what she loved, and why she was so special to our family. Her life was one filled with heartache. An only child until 1926, when her sister was born, she was excited to have a sibling. That joy, however, was short lived. Little Edith Vivian died, and unfortunately, her parents placed the blame squarely on her then eight-year-old shoulders. By the end of the year, she would watch - horrified - as her maternal Grandmother committed suicide. These early deaths left a mark on her soul and they plagued her throughout the rest of her life. Married to James Marshall Best in 1940, she found joy in her two children, Diana Lynn and James Marshall, Jr. (born in 1944 and 1947). During the War, while her husband was away, she moved in with her parents and wrote her husband regularly, sending pictures of their daughter, born in December of 1944. It would be two years before he got to see her in person. Her husband passed away in 1970, just a few years after the death of her father. She found happiness and solace in her children, who went on to give her five grandchildren - David (b. 1971), Scott (b. 1974), Kelly (b. 1976), Katie (b. 1983) and Lizzie (b. 1986).
For most of her life, she called New York home, but left in 1977, when her daughter's family moved to Maryland. Missing her independence, she moved back to New York, then back to Maryland, before heading to Florida. Missing her family too much, she ultimately came back to Maryland and lived with us until 1994, when she once again moved out, but staying within the same area. When her illness became too much and she was frightened to be on her own, she moved back. Having her live with us was a wonderful treat, and I can remember playing cards with her or taking her to the movies when my parents were otherwise engaged.
The most special times though, were 11 p.m. every night when I would give her her breathing treatments. As I did this, we would watch the Golden Girls together. It was our time, and even now I miss that. At 11pm each night I feel a pang. She will be forever missed by those who knew and loved her.
Parents:
Mother: Adeline Nellie LUSIGNAN
Father: Harry Cecil BALLARD
Siblings
1. Edith Vivian BALLARD - who died two months after her first birthday.
2. David Lusignan BALLARD.
Little Edith passed away far too soon. With her violet eyes and pretty smile, people often told her parents that she was just too pretty to be alive. Apparently, they were right. After battling a particularly nasty cold that left her hospitalized, Edith seemed to be on the mend. Unfortunately, it turned into pneumonia. The doctors assured her worried parents that she would make a speedy recovery. They couldn't have been more wrong. Her death haunted her parents, and especially her older sister, Audrey.
Her father, Harry, was so distraught by her death that he slept by her as she was laid in-waiting at the family house. When the time came to bury her, Harry wouldn't allow the other pall-bearers to carry her tiny coffin, opting instead to carry it himself. Her mother, Ada (as she was called) reacted quite differently and found herself the victim of a laughing "spree" of sorts. She then internalized her grief and rarely spoke about her lost little girl to anyone.
Harry and Edith, father and daughter, seemed to be uniquely connected on a different plane of existence. He didn't believe the doctors when they told her everything would be all right in the end, but relented and went out with his wife and some family friends to "celebrate" her "quick recovery." As the people around him talked about other, happier things, Harry sat lost in thought. Without warning, he jumped to his feet and announced, "Edith's calling me." His dinner guests looked at him as though he bore three heads. Edith was calling him? Such things, they believed, just weren't possible. He had shared this unique bond with his grandmother - who always seemed to know when he would show up on the Isle of Wight, in England. He had immigrated from England to America as a boy of 8, but took on the life of a Merchant Marine. He often traveled back to England, but had no way of contacting her to announce his arrival. Yet every time he came home, she had a pot of tea and a plate of buiscuts waiting for him.
Harry bolted from the table, pausing long enough to announce that he was going to the hospital - visiting hours be damned. He burst into her room just in time to hold her hand as she passed away. Doctors didn't know how he wound up there seeing as how they hadn't yet made the call to tell of her sudden, unexpected decline.
The loss of little Edith had lasting effects on those who had loved her. In a fit of grief stricken rage, Harry told his oldest, surviving daughter (Audrey) that it was her fault that Edith had died. She had, after all, brought home the cold that led to pneumonia. No one took into account my Grandmother's pain and confusion. Not quite a year before, she had witnessed the suicide of her beloved grandmother, Mary BEAUDRY, née Hannah. She had been married once before - to the man she truly loved, Moise Trefle LUSIGNAN.
My grandmother came to hate the colors black and purple as those were the primary colors that were put across the front doors of those who had recently suffered a death in the family. The smell of some flowers left her gagging, calling back memories of a too-small casket and the loss that nearly destroyed her family. Later, when she spoke of Edith, it was always with a half-dreamy look - as if she was trying recall what life had been like Before. As she lay dying, I told my Grandmother that she'd once again be reunited with her beloved parents and sister, even though it meant leaving behind her brother and his family, as well as her own children and their families.
*note, her ashes are to be interned L.I. National Cemetery in the near future.
Audrey Florence Best (nee Ballard) was born in Yonkers, New York and died in Severna Park, Maryland after suffering from emphysema for years. She was preceeded in death by her husband James Marshall Best, who passed away in 1970. She left behind two children and five grandchildren.
But that doesn't give you an idea of who she was and what she loved, and why she was so special to our family. Her life was one filled with heartache. An only child until 1926, when her sister was born, she was excited to have a sibling. That joy, however, was short lived. Little Edith Vivian died, and unfortunately, her parents placed the blame squarely on her then eight-year-old shoulders. By the end of the year, she would watch - horrified - as her maternal Grandmother committed suicide. These early deaths left a mark on her soul and they plagued her throughout the rest of her life. Married to James Marshall Best in 1940, she found joy in her two children, Diana Lynn and James Marshall, Jr. (born in 1944 and 1947). During the War, while her husband was away, she moved in with her parents and wrote her husband regularly, sending pictures of their daughter, born in December of 1944. It would be two years before he got to see her in person. Her husband passed away in 1970, just a few years after the death of her father. She found happiness and solace in her children, who went on to give her five grandchildren - David (b. 1971), Scott (b. 1974), Kelly (b. 1976), Katie (b. 1983) and Lizzie (b. 1986).
For most of her life, she called New York home, but left in 1977, when her daughter's family moved to Maryland. Missing her independence, she moved back to New York, then back to Maryland, before heading to Florida. Missing her family too much, she ultimately came back to Maryland and lived with us until 1994, when she once again moved out, but staying within the same area. When her illness became too much and she was frightened to be on her own, she moved back. Having her live with us was a wonderful treat, and I can remember playing cards with her or taking her to the movies when my parents were otherwise engaged.
The most special times though, were 11 p.m. every night when I would give her her breathing treatments. As I did this, we would watch the Golden Girls together. It was our time, and even now I miss that. At 11pm each night I feel a pang. She will be forever missed by those who knew and loved her.
Parents:
Mother: Adeline Nellie LUSIGNAN
Father: Harry Cecil BALLARD
Siblings
1. Edith Vivian BALLARD - who died two months after her first birthday.
2. David Lusignan BALLARD.
Little Edith passed away far too soon. With her violet eyes and pretty smile, people often told her parents that she was just too pretty to be alive. Apparently, they were right. After battling a particularly nasty cold that left her hospitalized, Edith seemed to be on the mend. Unfortunately, it turned into pneumonia. The doctors assured her worried parents that she would make a speedy recovery. They couldn't have been more wrong. Her death haunted her parents, and especially her older sister, Audrey.
Her father, Harry, was so distraught by her death that he slept by her as she was laid in-waiting at the family house. When the time came to bury her, Harry wouldn't allow the other pall-bearers to carry her tiny coffin, opting instead to carry it himself. Her mother, Ada (as she was called) reacted quite differently and found herself the victim of a laughing "spree" of sorts. She then internalized her grief and rarely spoke about her lost little girl to anyone.
Harry and Edith, father and daughter, seemed to be uniquely connected on a different plane of existence. He didn't believe the doctors when they told her everything would be all right in the end, but relented and went out with his wife and some family friends to "celebrate" her "quick recovery." As the people around him talked about other, happier things, Harry sat lost in thought. Without warning, he jumped to his feet and announced, "Edith's calling me." His dinner guests looked at him as though he bore three heads. Edith was calling him? Such things, they believed, just weren't possible. He had shared this unique bond with his grandmother - who always seemed to know when he would show up on the Isle of Wight, in England. He had immigrated from England to America as a boy of 8, but took on the life of a Merchant Marine. He often traveled back to England, but had no way of contacting her to announce his arrival. Yet every time he came home, she had a pot of tea and a plate of buiscuts waiting for him.
Harry bolted from the table, pausing long enough to announce that he was going to the hospital - visiting hours be damned. He burst into her room just in time to hold her hand as she passed away. Doctors didn't know how he wound up there seeing as how they hadn't yet made the call to tell of her sudden, unexpected decline.
The loss of little Edith had lasting effects on those who had loved her. In a fit of grief stricken rage, Harry told his oldest, surviving daughter (Audrey) that it was her fault that Edith had died. She had, after all, brought home the cold that led to pneumonia. No one took into account my Grandmother's pain and confusion. Not quite a year before, she had witnessed the suicide of her beloved grandmother, Mary BEAUDRY, née Hannah. She had been married once before - to the man she truly loved, Moise Trefle LUSIGNAN.
My grandmother came to hate the colors black and purple as those were the primary colors that were put across the front doors of those who had recently suffered a death in the family. The smell of some flowers left her gagging, calling back memories of a too-small casket and the loss that nearly destroyed her family. Later, when she spoke of Edith, it was always with a half-dreamy look - as if she was trying recall what life had been like Before. As she lay dying, I told my Grandmother that she'd once again be reunited with her beloved parents and sister, even though it meant leaving behind her brother and his family, as well as her own children and their families.
Audrey Florence Best (nee Ballard) was born in Yonkers, New York and died in Severna Park, Maryland after suffering from emphysema for years. She was preceeded in death by her husband James Marshall Best, who passed away in 1970. She left behind two children and five grandchildren.
But that doesn't give you an idea of who she was and what she loved, and why she was so special to our family. Her life was one filled with heartache. An only child until 1926, when her sister was born, she was excited to have a sibling. That joy, however, was short lived. Little Edith Vivian died, and unfortunately, her parents placed the blame squarely on her then eight-year-old shoulders. By the end of the year, she would watch - horrified - as her maternal Grandmother committed suicide. These early deaths left a mark on her soul and they plagued her throughout the rest of her life. Married to James Marshall Best in 1940, she found joy in her two children, Diana Lynn and James Marshall, Jr. (born in 1944 and 1947). During the War, while her husband was away, she moved in with her parents and wrote her husband regularly, sending pictures of their daughter, born in December of 1944. It would be two years before he got to see her in person. Her husband passed away in 1970, just a few years after the death of her father. She found happiness and solace in her children, who went on to give her five grandchildren - David (b. 1971), Scott (b. 1974), Kelly (b. 1976), Katie (b. 1983) and Lizzie (b. 1986).
For most of her life, she called New York home, but left in 1977, when her daughter's family moved to Maryland. Missing her independence, she moved back to New York, then back to Maryland, before heading to Florida. Missing her family too much, she ultimately came back to Maryland and lived with us until 1994, when she once again moved out, but staying within the same area. When her illness became too much and she was frightened to be on her own, she moved back. Having her live with us was a wonderful treat, and I can remember playing cards with her or taking her to the movies when my parents were otherwise engaged.
The most special times though, were 11 p.m. every night when I would give her her breathing treatments. As I did this, we would watch the Golden Girls together. It was our time, and even now I miss that. At 11pm each night I feel a pang. She will be forever missed by those who knew and loved her.
Parents:
Mother: Adeline Nellie LUSIGNAN
Father: Harry Cecil BALLARD
Siblings
1. Edith Vivian BALLARD - who died two months after her first birthday.
2. David Lusignan BALLARD.
Little Edith passed away far too soon. With her violet eyes and pretty smile, people often told her parents that she was just too pretty to be alive. Apparently, they were right. After battling a particularly nasty cold that left her hospitalized, Edith seemed to be on the mend. Unfortunately, it turned into pneumonia. The doctors assured her worried parents that she would make a speedy recovery. They couldn't have been more wrong. Her death haunted her parents, and especially her older sister, Audrey.
Her father, Harry, was so distraught by her death that he slept by her as she was laid in-waiting at the family house. When the time came to bury her, Harry wouldn't allow the other pall-bearers to carry her tiny coffin, opting instead to carry it himself. Her mother, Ada (as she was called) reacted quite differently and found herself the victim of a laughing "spree" of sorts. She then internalized her grief and rarely spoke about her lost little girl to anyone.
Harry and Edith, father and daughter, seemed to be uniquely connected on a different plane of existence. He didn't believe the doctors when they told her everything would be all right in the end, but relented and went out with his wife and some family friends to "celebrate" her "quick recovery." As the people around him talked about other, happier things, Harry sat lost in thought. Without warning, he jumped to his feet and announced, "Edith's calling me." His dinner guests looked at him as though he bore three heads. Edith was calling him? Such things, they believed, just weren't possible. He had shared this unique bond with his grandmother - who always seemed to know when he would show up on the Isle of Wight, in England. He had immigrated from England to America as a boy of 8, but took on the life of a Merchant Marine. He often traveled back to England, but had no way of contacting her to announce his arrival. Yet every time he came home, she had a pot of tea and a plate of buiscuts waiting for him.
Harry bolted from the table, pausing long enough to announce that he was going to the hospital - visiting hours be damned. He burst into her room just in time to hold her hand as she passed away. Doctors didn't know how he wound up there seeing as how they hadn't yet made the call to tell of her sudden, unexpected decline.
The loss of little Edith had lasting effects on those who had loved her. In a fit of grief stricken rage, Harry told his oldest, surviving daughter (Audrey) that it was her fault that Edith had died. She had, after all, brought home the cold that led to pneumonia. No one took into account my Grandmother's pain and confusion. Not quite a year before, she had witnessed the suicide of her beloved grandmother, Mary BEAUDRY, née Hannah. She had been married once before - to the man she truly loved, Moise Trefle LUSIGNAN.
My grandmother came to hate the colors black and purple as those were the primary colors that were put across the front doors of those who had recently suffered a death in the family. The smell of some flowers left her gagging, calling back memories of a too-small casket and the loss that nearly destroyed her family. Later, when she spoke of Edith, it was always with a half-dreamy look - as if she was trying recall what life had been like Before. As she lay dying, I told my Grandmother that she'd once again be reunited with her beloved parents and sister, even though it meant leaving behind her brother and his family, as well as her own children and their families.
