Obituary of Beate Angela Thelaner

Beate Angela Thelaner was born on January 12, 1961 in Stuttgart, Germany. Beate spent her life as a military child and had to move, adapt, make new friends, and was a protective older sister to her younger brothers Mike and Mark. Beate loved the ocean, music, and spending time with her grandchildren. Beate was a single mom to son Andre and they had such a strong bond built on love, respect, and a lot of inside jokes. Beate Thelaner was called home sooner than we would like and while we are sad we are working on celebrating the love she had for her friends and her family. Beate was a hard worker, a loving mom, a loyal friend, a compassionate daughter, a supportive big sister, and the worlds best Oma! Beate loved with all of her heart, she was the realist person you would ever meet with little to no filter and there wasn't a time you could be around her and not laugh hysterically. Beate was so proud of her only child Andre and the amazing man and father he is. Beate is survived by her father Leon Riggins, brothers Mark and Michael Riggins, son Andre Thelaner (Heather Thelaner) and grandchildren Marlee 11, Leon 5 and Langston 3.

 

How We Survive By Mark Rickerby

 

If we are fortunate,

we are given a warning.

 

If not,

there is only the sudden horror,

the wrench of being torn apart;

of being reminded

that nothing is permanent,

not even the ones we love,

the ones our lives revolve around.

 

Life is a fragile affair.

We are all dancing

on the edge of a precipice,

a dizzying cliff so high

we can't see the bottom.

 

One by one,

we lose those we love most

into the dark ravine.

 

So we must cherish them

without reservation.

Now.

Today.

This minute.

We will lose them

or they will lose us

someday.

This is certain.

There is no time for bickering.

And their loss

will leave a great pit in our hearts;

a pit we struggle to avoid

during the day

and fall into at night.

 

Some,

unable to accept this loss,

unable to determine

the worth of life without them,

jump into that black pit

spiritually or physically,

hoping to find them there.

 

And some survive

the shock,

the denial,

the horror,

the bargaining,

the barren, empty aching,

the unanswered prayers,

the sleepless nights

when their breath is crushed

under the weight of silence

and all that it means.

 

Somehow, some survive all that and,

like a flower opening after a storm,

they slowly begin to remember

the one they lost

in a different way...

 

The laughter,

the irrepressible spirit,

the generous heart,

the way their smile made them feel,

the encouragement they gave

even as their own dreams were dying.

 

And in time, they fill the pit

with other memories

the only memories that really matter.

 

We will still cry.

We will always cry.

But with loving reflection

more than hopeless longing.

 

And that is how we survive.

That is how the story should end.

That is how they would want it to be

Copywrite by Mark Rickerby

 

We love you Oma, we grieve because you are not here and we also find comfort in you being with the lord and loved ones past. Until we meet again...

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