Mary Miller A. Pierotti Relation to Deceased: Neice I remember Uncle Bob fondly. There were good times in my youth playing with his sons at their home. Throughout the years, I always got a Christmas card from him. In later years, he and I exchanged family history information. I missed the funeral when we lost touch, but I made a journey to the cemetery in Rochester to pay my respects. The butterfly emerges from its silken shell- Reborn, it arises, no longer bound to earth. Free at last, the butterfly glides to heights unknown before. So do our loved ones find a beautiful release as, earthbound no more, they leave our sight and joyfully rise to a garden of matchless beauty, a place of light and peace. -Evelyn Phillips