Obituary for Susan Anne Bradford (Ronner)
Susan Anne Bradford, age 67, of Canton, GA passed away Monday, October 12, 2020 at Northside Hospital Cherokee.
Graveside services are scheduled for 2:00 PM, on Thursday, October 15, 2020, from the Cherokee Memorial Park with Rev. Jeanne Hoechst officiating.
A Tribute to Susan Bradford from her Brother
My kid sister, a big brain and an even bigger heart, a sensitive flower that first graced this planet on this day in 1953. In those primeval days in The Big Apple, she followed me around. She gave me her allowance, such was her baffling devotion. We'd go down to the candy store together to get a 3-cent selzer or a 10 cent Coke, or maybe even an ice cream cone for 10 cents, with an extra 2 cents for sprinkles. Under Eisenhower, a dollar was a dollar. We visited the Catholic carnival, where I saw the “No Minors Allowed” signs at the wheel of fortune and, as a small child, could not understand why coal miners weren't allowed to gamble.
Later, Susan showed even more sacrifice by playing chess with me when no one else knew the rules or had the patience. However, she did wise up a bit, charging me 50 cents a game.
I remember Susan, Mom and I -- living modestly in a duplex in Alabama when Susan and I were teen-agers -- throwing coins in a “Florida or Bust” box on the kitchen table for months each year to fund a yearly vacation to Panama Beach. Once, on the way home, our aged and sputtering Renault's clutch went out, and Mom miraculously made every green light home to Piedmont from Talladega. Somebody up there knew that if that wheezing jalopy stopped, it would never move forward again.
As young adults, Susan and I had great times singing blue grass songs and hymns together in uplifting harmonies as Susan picked her guitar on her front porch during my visits. In the dark days many years ago when I was newly divorced, I once collapsed on her shoulder and cried like a baby.
More so every year as I mature, I appreciate this gentle and wise spirit who has shared my path. When my Abby and Amy came along in the late 1980s, Susan and Mom doted over them, helping to build the little girls' senses of self and earning for Susan and Mom a fierce loyalty and devotion from my daughters that endures to this day.
Which all goes to say that when I think of what matters most to me – and as I get older I increasingly do so – my mind runs often to my sister and our good times together, which are part of the treasure that I have “stored up in heaven” where no thief can steal it. To paraphrase one of my favorite poets, Emily Dickinson, “my friends (and loved ones) are my estate.”
South Canton Funeral Home, dedicated to the families we serve, 770-479-3377. Online condolences may be made to the family at www.thescfh.com
Graveside services are scheduled for 2:00 PM, on Thursday, October 15, 2020, from the Cherokee Memorial Park with Rev. Jeanne Hoechst officiating.
A Tribute to Susan Bradford from her Brother
My kid sister, a big brain and an even bigger heart, a sensitive flower that first graced this planet on this day in 1953. In those primeval days in The Big Apple, she followed me around. She gave me her allowance, such was her baffling devotion. We'd go down to the candy store together to get a 3-cent selzer or a 10 cent Coke, or maybe even an ice cream cone for 10 cents, with an extra 2 cents for sprinkles. Under Eisenhower, a dollar was a dollar. We visited the Catholic carnival, where I saw the “No Minors Allowed” signs at the wheel of fortune and, as a small child, could not understand why coal miners weren't allowed to gamble.
Later, Susan showed even more sacrifice by playing chess with me when no one else knew the rules or had the patience. However, she did wise up a bit, charging me 50 cents a game.
I remember Susan, Mom and I -- living modestly in a duplex in Alabama when Susan and I were teen-agers -- throwing coins in a “Florida or Bust” box on the kitchen table for months each year to fund a yearly vacation to Panama Beach. Once, on the way home, our aged and sputtering Renault's clutch went out, and Mom miraculously made every green light home to Piedmont from Talladega. Somebody up there knew that if that wheezing jalopy stopped, it would never move forward again.
As young adults, Susan and I had great times singing blue grass songs and hymns together in uplifting harmonies as Susan picked her guitar on her front porch during my visits. In the dark days many years ago when I was newly divorced, I once collapsed on her shoulder and cried like a baby.
More so every year as I mature, I appreciate this gentle and wise spirit who has shared my path. When my Abby and Amy came along in the late 1980s, Susan and Mom doted over them, helping to build the little girls' senses of self and earning for Susan and Mom a fierce loyalty and devotion from my daughters that endures to this day.
Which all goes to say that when I think of what matters most to me – and as I get older I increasingly do so – my mind runs often to my sister and our good times together, which are part of the treasure that I have “stored up in heaven” where no thief can steal it. To paraphrase one of my favorite poets, Emily Dickinson, “my friends (and loved ones) are my estate.”
South Canton Funeral Home, dedicated to the families we serve, 770-479-3377. Online condolences may be made to the family at www.thescfh.com