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My Angels in Heaven

I have lost many people in my life.
I would like to take a moment to mention thier names here.
Carla Jean Livsey- Died 12/10/88
Betty Hopkins- Died 1992
LeRoy LaRue- Died 1996
Glenn Dale LaRue- Died 4/26/75
James Lancaster-Died 7/19/94
Paul Scott SR.-Died 1997
Shirley Jean LaRue Kupka -Died 2/26/04
My sweet Aunt Shirley, who I loved so much, left us. Thankfully she died peacefully in her sleep. Every time I remember she is no longer here, my heart tears a little more. She was my favorite Aunt, I felt closest to her, my fathers sister. She was such a wonderful person, I miss her so. (8.31.05)


This page is set up mainly as a memorial to two very important and special men. My Father, and Grandfather.

Glenn Dale LaRue
11/27/48-4/26/75

My dad, Glenn Dale LaRue, was born Nov. 27th, 1948. I do not remember my dad. My mom tells me he kidnapped my sister and I once because he came over and no one was home except me and Lisa she was 3 and I was just months old. He looked in the fridge there was no food. So he took us up to Big Bear Ca. where his sister Shirley lived. My mom took him to court and lied to get us back. My dad loved my mom so much He couldn't stand the thought of living without her and us. So he got into drugs, He met people and got in real deep. He got into shooting up and his drug of choice was morphine. Now all my life my mom told my sister and I that our dad had went to take a nap and just didn't wake up. I didn't find out what really happend until I was 14. My aunt Shirley told me my dad wanted to clean up his life in April 1975 he went to her house and asked her if he could stay with her awhile so he could get away from the 'life' he had been living. He wanted to be a good father to Lisa and I. She said yes and was so happy to hear him say these things. My dad went back to San Bernadino where he shared an apartment with another guy. He got there and started to get his things together when two other guys came over his roomate let them in and then left. Whoever these men were they beat my dad so bad that they could hardly identify him. They gave him two shots of morphine there were two puncture marks. The first shot had enough to kill him aunt Shirley said she guessed they wanted to make sure he would die. My dad died all alone in that apartment April 26, 1975. I was 5. The coroner ruled it a suicide, the dual puncture marks were there because my dad was shooting up before this day as well. I don't know for sure what happend, he was beaten up before he died. Maybe that is what pushed him over that edge? I don't have any pictures of my dad and me. I never knew him really. I had dreamed of him he had longish hair and a beard. Mom always told me he was clean shaven. Well when I was 14 looking through my aunts photo albums there he was longish hair and a beard! I did remember him! I was so happy. I sometimes look at people and how they treat thier parents and say man if only I had my dad. My dad is perfect he never told me no, never spanked me, never grounded me. But then again he never walked me down the isle, he wasn't there when his grandchildren were born, he wasn't there for any important dates. I miss that but I know if he could he would be here now and in spirit he is. And now he has met my Shane and that I am happy about in a sad sort of way.


James Lancaster
6/10/10-7/19/94

My papa, James Lancaster was born June 10, 1910. He was a WWII soldier with England. He adopted my mom in 1948. And he and my Nana moved to USA in 1957. My Nana & Papa are the best grandparents anyone could ever wish for. And not to sound cruel or like I don't love her we all thought Nana would go first. She was always sick and Papa took care of her. I am glad she is still here but wish Papa were too. Papa was never sick. He had regular doctors visits once a month or so. He never would let the doctor take his blood. In July 1994 he woke up in the middle of the night spitting up blood and bleeding. He was rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with Lukemia. He died a week later. My entire family lived in Arizona and my grandparents in California so my mom and two sisters went to see him on a plane. I couldn't go because I had no money. So I drove. I made it almost to the border and my car broke down. I slept on the side of the road with a dick husband then got the car fixed the next morning or so I thought. We headed back toward Papa and the car overheated again. So my husband at the time made me turn around. I never got to say goodbye to my Papa. He died the next day, 7/19/94. My sisters and mom say it is a good thing I didn't see him because he looked so bad. I wanted to tell him how I loved him all my life, how I looked up to him, how I wanted so much to be like him. I guess he knows now. My Nana visited with him the night he died. She said he looked so peaceful he smiled at her and said, I love... then fell asleep. By the time she got home from that visit the hospital had called saying he was gone. His last words to her, I love ... he was weak and couldn't get the you out. My Nana is doing well living with my sister Lisa in Arizona. After 54 years of marriage I know how she feels,Almost. I know Papa is with her and keeps her going. I know she longs to be with him agian, but I prefer to keep her here with us a bit longer.


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