Written by Christina Ely Milliman, in memory of Florence Sarah Pelletier Ely and Leonard Roscoe Ely

Published on Facebook, October 17, 2025

The first day I posted about the bookmark in my mother’s bible, I wanted to share the story about finding and reading the two at her funeral. The second day, I simply wanted to follow up and share what the second bookmark marking the 23^rd Psalm said. Also, I wanted to share the beautiful photo of frost on my zinnia flowers, which I found that morning at dawn when I took Max, our Australian Shepherd Doodle puppy, outside. My newfound love of flowers, which I’ve developed over the last few years, was passed down to me from my mother and is vital to the story of her life and her legacy. By the third day, as I thought about why I was posting these things on Facebook, I realized that I was writing my eulogy to my mother and father.

My father died when I was quite young, only fifteen. I was too young then, too heartbroken, distraught, and devastated to write a eulogy, let alone to share the words and stories at his funeral. In the days after my mother passed, I will tell you that I could not think of a single significant memory. Not a single one. It bothered me. Indeed, there were significant moments, but I couldn’t put them together. I could not have given a eulogy alongside my sister, but the bookmarks opened my mind to thinking more about her, as one does when they grieve—and then thinking of my father, and the two of them as a couple.

Over the last several days, I have shared my memories, meaningful moments, and other stories that I hope provide a window into who my mother and father were. Their ideals, their convictions, their personalities, their talents, and, in turn, who I am. I realized also that this space holds people from across each chapter of my life. Some of you have known me since birth, while others have only known me for a short while, as I have moved from place to place for school or work. Some of you were friends in high school, while others are currently students at the pottery studio. But all of you are family or friends. Most of you have never met my parents, I am sure. Especially my father, as he died so young, at forty-seven, the age that I am now.

I want to thank those of you who read these posts, who commented, and gave me comfort as I navigate these first days after my mother’s passing. But also, to those of you who do not like or comment but have told me you are reading them. To those of you who shared your own experience or memories, I appreciate you. I appreciate your kind words, your thoughtful messages, and your heartfelt gestures. Thank you for reading the words that were so easily written and for listening to the songs chosen to accompany them. I will continue to write as these memories come to the surface, but may do so in the form of private letters to each of them separately, as well as letters to both of them together.

Please feel free to share your memories of them with my siblings and me here or by handwritten note if you so wish. We would greatly appreciate it at this time. To breathe more life and honor into the story of two beautiful people we were blessed to have on this earth.

God bless you and keep you. May God shine a light upon you and give you peace. In his name’s sake. Amen. Rest in peace, Mom and Dad, together once again. I love you forever, and always, and will keep you in my heart.

Song: Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheeran