Post Scripts: Remembering Peggy

When we assemble to note the passing of one who, so recently, lived among us, we also mourn not only for the deceased, but for ourselves. Such was the case recently when the family of Margaret "Aunt Peggy" Alber gathered from distant points in Kansas City for her memorial service. there was no casket at the Meyer Boulevard United Methodist Church altar because this fine lady had decided to donate her body to the KU Medical Center. She explained over the years she wanted this to be done "because it might help some other person." This was mentioned by Rev. Steve McQueen, the church pastor, in his funeral oration. He is the son of a former pastor of the Gallatin United Methodist Church, Rev. James McQueen. Steve portrayed my wife’s older sister as a shepherd and that was quite true for she did pretty well direct and supervise the family as long as she could, and her participation was almost universally accepted.

There is an old saying: "God will not look you over for your medals, but for your scars." We know Peggy went to Heaven with many scars, received in her attempts to help and serve her family members and a wide circle of friends in every way she could. Her life was not without its share of sorrow and deceit, raising two sons virtually alone. The 91 persons who attended the services attested to her character, patience, love and devotion to those she loved, including seven brothers and sisters, three of the family now deceased.

I first met "Aunt Peggy" when Kathy and I began dating just prior to World War II. Kathy had come to Kansas City to work and lived with Peggy in a nice house at 72nd and Baltimore. I was working at the K.C. Star and running a small newspaper on the east side of Kansas City. As often as I could I called on Kathy and would sit in front of Aunt Peggy’s fireplace, look into the flames and, eventually, plan our future together. I became quite fond of her for she always treated me with kindness and respect. She was a great cook, too.

Kathy and Peggy became quite close over the years and Kathy always looked upon her as a second mother, their own mother having died in 1942. When Kathy and I wed, Peggy planned the wedding and hosted the reception in her home. It was a spectacular event and soon Kathy and I were on our way to Camp Chaffee, Arkansas, my first post as a public information officer with the 14th Armored Division. She visited Gallatin many times and read the Gallatin paper each week commenting on many people she had learned to know.

Time marches on! Last week we arrived at her hospital bedside. It was as if she had waited for Kathy to get there. She was breathing hard through an oxygen mask but most of that day she and Kathy caught up on things. It was a glorious preamble to her passing. She went to sleep and just never woke up again. Her sons, Bob and Don, were there – plus Bob’s wife, Judy.

Peggy’s friends do not have to search far for the goodness of her life. We and they will always remember the good things she stood for, because they are worth remembering. Those departed never wholly leave us. We have filed away in our hearts the memory of a wonderful person and she will never wholly leave those who loved and respected her. "God Bless, Peggy."