A Quote by Laura Ingalls Wilder

The world seems a lonesome place when mother has passed away and only memories of her are left. — © Laura Ingalls Wilder
The world seems a lonesome place when mother has passed away and only memories of her are left.
Blaire, This was my grandmother’s. My father’s mother. She came to visit me before she passed away. I have fond memories of her visits and when she passed on she left this ring to me. In her will I was told to give it to the woman who completes me. She said it was given to her by my grandfather who passed away when my dad was just a baby but that she’d never loved another the way she’d loved him. He was her heart. You are mine. This is your something old. I love you, Rush
My mother passed away young - she died from ovarian cancer at just 54 years old. Her sacrifices for my sisters and I evoke a tribute in her honor each and every Mother's Day.
His entired life bundled into wenty refuse sacks. His and her memories bundle away in Holly's mind. Each item unearthed dust, tears, laughter and memories. She bagged the items, cleared the dust, wiped her eyes and filed away the memories.
I didn't know that Left Eye's dad passed away right when she wanted to tell him that she just signed to LaFace Records. After I signed to Jive Records and just before I put out my first album, my mother passed away. It was very odd how much we had in common.
Because no, I didn’t push her away. I didn’t add to her pain or do anything to hurt her. Instead, I left her alone in that room. The only person who might’ve been able to reach out and save her from herself. To pull her back from wherever she was heading. I did what she asked and I left. When I should have stayed.
Since my mother passed away, my father and I forged a bond that is so tighter than one could possibly imagine. Keep in mind, I am an only child, so I was always fiercely close with both my parents. The tragedy my father and I endured when my mother passed created a bond between us that no amount of force can break.
When my mother first passed away some time ago, I didn't enjoy food anymore. I just ate to live. My mother had always cooked so well that I didn't think I could follow her.
My mother had a Spanish upbringing. She was an excellent cook. Everything was home-made. We didn't eat food with smiley faces on it. My Mum passed away in 1994. I miss her. I miss her cooking. It would be nice to have a meal with her again.
When I was 12, my mother passed away from heart failure, leaving us in grief and in debt from her medical bills.
One of my more recent favorite memories is of traveling to Jeonju with my aunt and uncle. After my mother passed away, my aunt and I became a lot closer, and I've really grown to cherish the relationship we formed together as adults.
My mother is a very strong woman. We were seven kids; five of them passed away. My elder brother and I are alive. My mother lost five kids, her husband, her parents and siblings. But she is so strong, she is living for the people who are alive.
I was always lonesome. The only time I felt accepted or wanted was when I was on stage performing. I guess the stage was my only friend: the only place where I could feel comfortable. It was the only place where I felt equal and safe.
It seems strange that the Mother of the race should be made the Slave of the Fruits of her Womb. It appears peculiar that she should have no privileges except those received through her son. It seems illogical that the God Principle of the Universe, in its infinite wisdom, should endanger the existence of the Race by making the Mother of it the weak, cringing underling of her husband.
This is the woman's century, the first chance for the mother of the world to rise to her full place . . . and the world waits while she powders her nose.
You should know that there is little you can seek in this world, that there is no need for you to be so greedy, in the end all you can achieve are memories, hazy, intangible, dreamlike memories which are impossible to articulate. When you try to relate them, there are only sentences, the dregs left from the filter of linguistic structures.
There was plenty of life left and if he had to he would use it all to get her back. The time had passed for making promises to her-all that was left for him was to act.
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