My Grandparents, Nancy Catherine Mayfield, daughter of Jacob and Malinda Fulton Mayfield and John Franklin Mayfield, son of Columbus and Ellen Masters Mayfield.
They died 10 days apart in 1918 Flu Epidemic, at Mayfield, MO when my father was 9 years old.



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When someone you love becomes a memory,
the memory becomes a treasure.
- Unknown Author
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Those we love don't go away, they walk beside us everyday. Unseen, unheard, but always near, so loved, so missed, so very dear
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Life brings tears, smiles, and memories: the tears dry, the smile fades, but the memories live on forever.
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I am like him, so they say,
Who was dead before I came.
Cheeks and mouth and eyes of gray
Have been fashioned much the same.
I am like her, so they say,
Who was dead ere I was born,
And I walk the self-same way
On the paths her feet have worn.
There is that within my face
And the way I hold my head
Which seems strangely to replace
Those who long have joined the dead.
Thus across the distance far
In the body housing me
Both my great-grandparents are
Kept alive in memory.

[Edgar A. Guest 1934}