As per her wishes, no funeral or memorial services were held for Evelyn Bernice Donnelly (née Clingan), 77, of Chico, CA, USA, also known by the nickname Evie.
Mrs. Donnelly died Sunday, January 2, 2005, of natural causes (pneumonia exacerbated by COPD following a stroke).
A dedicated Mother and wife, she is predeceased by her husband of 44 years, Robert Ellis Donnelly, beloved cat, Buffy,
and her much beloved dog, Muffin. She is survived by her beloved cat, Blackie; her sons and daughter
— Robert Wayne Donnelly, of
Chico; Lesa Louise (Pat) Donnelly, of Anderson, CA; William Harold Donnelly, of Chico; and Daniel Lee
(Jeannie) Donnelly, of Chico; and a family-"adopted" son and long-time friend of the family, James Benjamin
Clark, of Bakersfield, CA.
She is also pre-deceased by her father and mother, Spencer Boyd and Verna Reba (née Fenwick)
Clingan, and survived and pre-deceased by a former husband, Marvin Seagraves, and seven brothers and
sisters — Marjorie [Margie] (Ken) Garrett, Wanda ['Bonnie'] (Bob) Elder, George L. (Rhoda) Clingan,
(Alvin) Bruce (Gail) Clingan, Verna ['Babe'] (Ken) Dixon, and Chester (Cathy) Clingan — and
many nieces, nephews, and cousins. Much to her chagrin, she had no grandchildren, except various
companion animals, mostly cats, and some dogs.
A life-long resident of the state of California, she was born June 2, 1927 in Porterville, CA and lived large parts of her life in South San Francisco and other parts of the Bay Area, Oroville, Cherokee, Visalia and surrounding areas, Feather River Canyon near Twain, Chico, Marysville / Yuba City, and Loma Rica, as well as occasional forays to various parts of the country when younger. She and her husband also traveled for several years as "Snowbirds", going south for the winter to "The Slabs" in their camper or RV.
During her life, Mrs. Donnelly often worked as a waitress in various establishments, at which she excelled, which is no mean feat, as people who have done that hard work well know. She loved counting her tips, which tended to be voluminous. She also worked with her husband in various businesses as Co-Owner, Co-Operator, Co-Manager, and Co-Proprietor. She worked for a time as Secretary-Receptionist at Farmer's Insurance in Visalia, CA when her husband took ill.
And when she wasn't a Full-time Mother and Homemaker, she also did that job when and while she was 'officially' working elsewhere outside the home. She excelled at this important job, as well, and had a reputation for being an excellent cook and baker. It is believed by many that her main ingredient in all her food was Love. During her life, she made literally thousands of brown sack school lunches for her four children, as well as many thousands more breakfasts, dinners, and snacks. These were very much appreciated by her family — however, in retrospect, not nearly enough.
Her interests mostly comprised being an avid, voracious reader. Her children always knew what to get her for Christmas and her Birthday. She occasionally dabbled in various artistic and creative endeavors, and was very creative, and a good artist and poet. For a time she was well-known for her Sand Paintings, which she sold at Fleamarkets and Craft Fairs, at which she would usually make them in glassware with plants on top in front of passersby as a demonstration and to garner sales attention. She loved attending Fleamarkets and Yard Sales, as both buyer and seller. She and her husband also loved to go to Reno, NV and 'Indian Casinos' and gamble, especially slot machines.
A life-long Democrat, Mrs. Donnelly also enjoyed watching her TV shows and movies, which included News shows, to keep an eye on the current political climate. Although not formally religious, she was a Christian at heart, and had a personal relationship with God that she rarely spoke of.
At her request, Mrs. Donnelly was cremated, at Afforable Mortuary. Donations in her name may be made to your local mission, or homeless shelter, or non-human animal care organization. Condolences may be e-mailed via the online website.
Stop All The Clocks —— Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
— W. H. Auden
Death Is Nothing At All
Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you,
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just round the corner.
All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
— Henry Scott-Holland