My cousin Ron Rapp sent this letter about Aunt Count that was read at her funeral. Thanks Ron and thanks Larry.

My fondest memories from childhood are similar to my brother, Larry's. Home-made cherry pie, grocery store right across the street, their dog Skippy with the constant oil streak on his back from sleeping under the car, outhouse for 'day use' and chamber pot for 'night use', large yard where we kids could play, and of course, the active train tracks within a stone's throw. Aunt Ina Mae was always so 'kid friendly' - very tolerant, patient, and caring.

As an adult, I remember visiting Burket with my wife, Dorothy, and our family of three children. How Aunt Ina Mae would laugh when we would hear the trains coming, scurry to place a penny or two on the tracks, and then attempt to locate the coins after the train passed. She would always cook something special if she knew we were coming (even if we requested she not bother). Once my Dad passed away in 1987, I realized just how much Aunt Ina Mae reminded me of him - similarities in appearance, sound, values, etc. Eventually, during each visit, the conversation would turn to Aunt Ina Mae telling us stories of growing up with our Dad, or of receiving letters from him when he was in the Air Force. You could pretty much track what was important in her life, just by reading the notations on that calendar that hung on her kitchen wall. She remained mentally sharp through the last of our visits, and could recall so many details of her younger days.

In our living room, Dorothy still has the Christmas cactus that started from a sprout given to us by Aunt Ina Mae. I'll likely pause each time I pass by that plant, and smile each time it gives off those pink blossoms. Life's journey has ended, Aunt Ina Mae, but many of us were blessed by your presence. Enjoy eternity with your heavenly Father (and say hello to my Dad)!