You did your human best to make us a family, regardless of how hard we all individually tried to screw things up for ourselves. It was that ONE, unselfish act, that helped develop us in to who we are or were at this moment in time. 
You mattered. More than I will ever be able to express; and I love you.

Kris.

I look forward to sharing with all who care to attend mom's memorial. The link will be posted on this site very soon. Please plan for 13 July 2025.

a pull over from his Railroad/Union Electrician days, mom in something made of double knit polyester, and us kids in the back of the wagon. Beth, Brooke, and I. Beth and Brooke did sort of get along, as well as sisters do at the ages they were. If they weren’t passing the time doing whatever girls do at that age? Maybe reading magazines, puzzles, eating snacks, napping – and therefore I was in the very back of the station wagon…back, I mean wayyyyy back; with the luggage. I was a big reader back then. A real geek, really, and I remember I had graduated from reading books like Jack London’s White Fang, and Jim Kjelgaard Irish Red, and had just started reading Steven King. Now these trips were loooong trips. Sometimes most of the night trips, and I had been reading Steven King, a really scary writer, by the way, and had read by flashlight because the sun had set, but had to stop because the batteries had run out.  
That one night, on the way to Red River, or San Francisco, as a family, for fun, or wherever it is we were going, - mabe even a Circuit Assemby or something awfully boring like that, mom engaged us all – iincluding 300 lb.’ 6-2” Forrest Bird, in a song about bells. White Choral Bells, it was called. I tried to sing along, but mostly just listened, being the baby of the family. It was as if I was hearing the song for the first time, but knew in my heart that I had heard it maybe hundreds of times before. It was a song mom had taught my sisters when I was still a baby. 
That time – was the first time – in knew in my heart that we were a family. We were on a road trip, with a dad I had just met a some 24 months ago, and yet strangely our family was one natural family on this earth. We were happy, we were on a fun adventure, and we were destined to be connected, physically and spiritually and mystically, for the rest of time.
(Part II)

Mom passed away on June 4 at 4:55 in the evening. She had been in palliative a care home for only about 6 or 7 days, and that was only after fighting fiercely to stay out of “a home”, because we promised each other that she would never go in one. 
No matter what your outward opinion was about Janet Lynne Burggraf, born on November 3, 1937, and how unhappy she was to still be here, on earth, after my dad Forrest passed, in every expression she made outwardly – if you knew her, and I mean REALLY knew her, you know that her struggle to remain happy after dad died was a battle she could never find the secret formula to win. In spite of that inward unhappiness, you ALSO knew that mom’s #1 concern was the welfare of her family.  Mom loved her family – and even though she did not voice this very often; her primary concern was that she had somehow failed us three; Beth, Brooke, and me – as we continue to live our lives. 
I can tell you, right now, with absolutely no hesitation, that she did not.
You will have to excuse me. After 22 years in the US Navy submarine force, I speak bluntly, and today hopefully efficiently, because I don’t want any of mom’s loved ones to dwell upon her passing, and her later years on earth. 
I am used to addressing sailors, so please forgive my candor. My primary reason for wanting to speak at mom’s Memorial is to remind you that MOM lived! She had purpose. She WAS somebody, and she indeed mattered to everyone who was blessed to know her, and had the privilege to love her and be loved.
I’ll share one memory of mom, dad, my family – Beth, Brooke, me; and it involves a 1970 Kingswood Station Wagon on a family trip to many places, shortly after mom and dad married in September 28, 1972? I was maybe 14? And we were driving seems like everywhere. One of the destinations was Red River Arkansas, where I met my Uncle Jimmy, on my blood father’s side, and we were learning to blend as a mixed family should. Dad was no doubt wearing coveralls, 
(Part I)

Pamela & I would like to thank all of you for all of the support and kind and sincere words of remembrance you have shared with us over the past several days. It means a lot. Love, the Milford fam.

Grandma there are so many thoughts I have to share now and leading up to your passing it started with the guilt I felt for not having spent more time with you in your waking life. I would have loved to connect with you in my adult hood and wish I had taken the opportunity while there was still time. Can you forgive me for not being present? I knew as time passed you saw more and more the need for love to prevail and less and less the need for separation amongst families for any reason. I feel that if you could speak now you would say, get past your differences while there is still time forgive others of their transgressions, do this as they forgive you and above all else let love prevail. No matter the state of the world or the gravity of the difference that separated, find the strength to move past. Stand strong together and love one another as if there never developed a reason to judge or to find dismay. I vow to make better decisions moving forward. The memory that stands most prevalent in my mind happened when I was maybe 8 years old some 30 odd years ago. My Mom, yourself, your Schnauzer Dolly and I were making a trip to see Grandma and Grandpa in Arlington for the holidays and we were traveling from Colorado Springs to Arlington, Texas . We were in your Buick and up against a blizzard that brought more than 3 feet of snow. We found ourselves stuck with no choice but to have faith so Mom set out on foot in hopes of finding a gas station and did in fact return several hours later in a tow truck. He got us as far as the truck stop where we spent the night. They tried to make us keep Dolly outside and after you refused, they reluctantly agreed to let us bring her into to the bathroom where we would try to sleep overnight. This reminds me still of your values in their gleaming magnitude family and faith is the loudest message you left behind, thank you from the bottom of my heart. This I realize is what matters. I love you so much, I hear you and I will.

I have proposed a date of 5 Jul, 2025 @ 1:00 PM EST for mom's memorial service and have requested that brother Al Hazard preside. I've asked that it be held on Zoom so that all brothers and sisters from congregations in Colorado, Kansas. Texas, Virginia, Friends and Family may attend and share. Please let me know if this time is inconvenient and if so, I will do my best to accommodate a better time for maximum participation in celebrating mom's life. Zoom link will follow from brother Gianono, to be posted by the memorial service. Thank you. Kris.

She almost lost her balance, one time, getting up from the shampoo chair and I caught her from falling.   She then said, “Wow, you’re pretty strong for a little one”. Ha!

There was time she went to see me for her haircuts and style.  May she now rest in peace.

Grandma, you were my last living Grandma….Don’t think that your visit in the form of a giant monarch butterfly was went unnoticed yesterday because I knew that was you finally getting to meet her.  I love you. I miss you.  I cherished you.

AVIS DE DÉCÈS

Janet Lynne Bird

3 novembre 1937 – 4 juin 2025

Smith & Williams Funeral Home/Kempsville

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