Esther Wehner

Esther Wehner, 79, Richardton, died Thursday, April 3, 2003, at St. Joseph?s Hospital and Health Center. Mass of Christian Burial will be 10 a. m. Monday, April 7, 2003, at St. Mary?s Catholic Church, Richardton, with the Reverend Brian Wangler, O. S. B. celebrating. Interment will be in St. Mary?s Cemetery, Richardton. Visitation will be Sunday from 12 p. m. to 3 p. m. at Price-Murphy Funeral Home and will continue at the church beginning at 4 p. m. with a prayer service at 7 p. m. Esther Wehner was born August 2, 1923, to August and Elizabeth (Hesse) Bogner in Hot Springs, SD. She graduated from St. John?s McNamara School of Nursing in Rapid City, SD in 1944. She met Frank Wehner, the love of her life while working at Ft. Meade V. A. Hospital in South Dakota. They married August 26, 1947, in Sturgis, SD. Five years later they settled in Richardton where Esther devoted her life to family and her nursing career. She was a member of St. Mary?s Catholic Church and Christian Mothers. She retired from Richardton Health Center in 1992 after working there for 40 years. She enjoyed sewing, quilting, gardening and canning. Esther is survived by: her husband, Frank Wehner, Richardton; three daughters, Linda (Jim) Farina, Prospect, Conn. , Charlene Wehner, Minneapolis, Minn. , Marilyn (Mark) Van Gestel, Omaha, Neb,; five grandchildren, Jamey, Becky and Nick Farina and Zachary and Adam Van Gestel; brother, Joe Bogner; sisters, Elnora Bogner, Leona Bogner and Isabel Ash. She was preceded in death by: her parents; infant daughter, Shirley; brothers, Rudy, Richard and Leonard Bogner; twin brother, Edward Bogner and sister, Estella Bogner. Esther Wehner Eulogy Written By: Jamey Farina ? Granddaughter Poems utter truths. They call forth essence. In an altered language, they tie us back to what we can no longer touch. They capture and evoke, and sometimes commemorate. It may be a moment, an idea, or a human being. I?d like to read a poem that seems to capture, evoke and commemorate the human being we are here to honor today. To live content with small means, To seek elegance rather than luxury, And refinement rather than fashion, To be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich, To study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly, To listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart. To bear all cheerfully, Do all bravely, Await occasions, Hurry never ? In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, Grow up through the common. This is to be my symphony. William Ellery Channing My grandmother professed that she couldn?t carry a tune. The few rare few who have heard her try, in church or otherwise, may or may not agree with that statement. I don?t know. I was never one of those rare few. But I believe I am among the many that have played in or have been moved by her symphony. A symphony quite like the narrator in Channing?s poem. My grandmother was of the extraordinary sort that could orchestrate. And I do mean orchestrate, truly orchestrate, with grace, subtlety, and finesse. She had the rarest and finest ability to command without demanding. Grandma was like the quiet and unassuming conductor who artfully makes herself the invisible backbone of every day. (No matter how many surprise guests grandpa brought home for dinner!) No, Grandma. You could not have carried a tune. You were too busy conducting a symphony. What never went unnoticed, not matter how smoothly you had the day running, was with what love and tenderness and super-human patience you served and conducted. Complaints were not in your chosen vocabulary. No, you had room for everybody and every change of plans, but no room, absolutely no room, for complaints. You left no time for them. Too many important things to do, you?d say the garden needs weeding. Patients needing tending to. The girls Sunday dresses needed making, and there was always the coffee bunch to get together with between laundry loads. Remember? I?d come with and play the Operation Game in the living room while the girls had coffee at Bonnie?s. But most of all, you were too busy keeping that screwy barber guy out of trouble. My grandmother was a conductor who lived like a tree. She got by on less. She gave everything and everyone around her so very much and she asked for so very little. She was the ultimate nurturer. Mother, Grandmother, Wife, and Friend. Just like the making of the symphony in Channing?s poem, Grandma lived content with small means, thought quietly, talked gently, and acted frankly. She bore all and cheerfully. She did all and bravely. She hurried ? never. This is to be her symphony, and her legacy. Grandma, you are here. Your simple beauty with tremendous fortitude and guiding love. You are living music in us all. The voice of your body that Parkinson?s weakened now yields to the empowered voice of your soul. You can be heard by all. May the earth continue to live May the heavens above continue to live May the rains continue to dampen the land May the wet forests continue to grow Then the flowers shall bloom And we people shall live again. Hawaiian Prayer


Burial Date: April 7, 2003
Funeral Home Dickinson, ND

Funeral Mass: Sunday, St. Mary’s Catholic Church, Richardton