Baker, Blanche Lloyd

Passed: 1926-04-27

Age: 23

Source:

Death Notice: 1926-04-27

Obituary Date:

Information: Blanche Lloyd Baker, daughter of Thornton and Mary A. Lloyd, was born March 4, 1903 and died April 27, 1926, aged 23 years, 1 month and 23 days.  Blanche was the oldest girl in the family of eleven children, six boys and five girls, all being practically grown.  She is the first to go away and break the group of which her parents were so proud.  Blanche and I were married August 4, 1921, and to us two children were born, Dorothy Gwendolyn and Commodore Martin Baker.  These children were their mother's pride and joy as well as mine.  Many are the sacrifices their mother has made for them, for she was devoted to her family and home.  The children will scarcely remember mama and her many acts of love.  But for me, in the long, long, years which may be ahead, memories dear, a vacant chair, a lonesome fireside.  A home that was, but is not now, for home is not home since mamma went away.      For more than a year, Blanche had been fighting the dread disease, diabetes, which had robbed her of her health and vigor, but which could not, in a measure, take from her that independent disposition and spirit which made her fight to conquer in any struggle.  But a little more than a week ago complications set in, and Blanche lost in the last of her earthly contests with disease.  On Tuesday at 4:45 in the evening, Blanche passed out to make that long journey from which travelers never return, leaving us to mourn and wonder why so dear a girl must so soon be called to make this last pilgrimage.  In the early morning, at noon, at evening tide and in the wee small hours of the night, it seems I hear her calling to little Dorothy and Martin and to me, as she used to do when here.  I hope that I may care for her children as she wished, and I know that, sooner or later, one by one, we shall go over where mamma waits.  To all who knew her, it was simply Blanche, the name by which she wished to be called.  She remembered you and each of you, I can say for her, in the same sunny, smiling way as she greeted you when here.  But death has robbed us of her presence, and her joy for a little while.   Her husband.