Gwendoline (Gwen) Eshmade (19 Jan 1918 - 21 Aug 2017)

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Gwendoline (Gwen)Crohn’s & Colitis UK

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Location
Pentrebychan Crematorium Pentre-Bychan Road, Rhostyllen Wrexham LL14 4EP
Date
1st Sep 2017
Time
12pm
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Location
Pentrebychan Crematorium Pentre-Bychan Rd, Rhostyllen Wrexham LL14 4EP
Date
1st Sep 2017
Time
12pm

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In loving memory of Gwendoline (Gwen) Eshmade who sadly passed away on 21st August 2017, (ex Canteen Manageress at Wrexham Brickworks) peacefully at Wrexham Maelor Hospital, aged 99 years and formerly of Kingsmills Road, Wrexham. Beloved wife of the late Norman, much loved mum of Patricia, Pamela and Jeffrey, dearly loved by all her grandchildren and great grandchildren, a sadly missed sister and aunt. Family flowers only please, donations may be given in memory. All enquiries please to the funeral directors.

James Eshmade wrote

Deeply saddened to hear this awful news. Had I known the date of the Service then I would have been there to honour your life and your passing over. My deepest sympathy and condolences to the Family.

Dearest Nana, please forgive me! My absence in your life was inexcusable. But it was not done through bitterness. There was never any malicious intent, only weakness and insecurity.

We live our lives with our heads in the sand. Living out our lives in ignorant bliss. It's only when time takes its toll and forces us to take account of ourselves. It's only then the grim reality of Times cruel advance finally shows its mark. Relationships lost and relationships found. The only enduring thing thats left is love. Eternal love that never diminishes but keeps us forever close. To live for eternity in all of our hearts. Bless you all. Love James

Dylan Thomas
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men and women at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, good women the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave women, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my Nana, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

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James Eshmade lit a candle
James Eshmade wrote

Deeply saddened to hear this awful news. We live our lives with our heads in the sand. Living out our lives in ignorant bliss. It's only when time takes its toll and forces us to take account of ourselves. It's only then the grim reality of Times cruel advance finally shows its mark. Relationships lost and found. The only enduring thing thats left is love. Eternal love than never diminishes but keeps us forever close. Bless you all

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Lisa Hatherall wrote

Donations made in memory of Gwent on 1st September 2017

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