You were a precious gift,
Our joy, our dreams.
You were a sparkle through the darkness;
Our hope for a brighter tomorrow.
You warmed our hearts, gave light to our minds,
And beauty to our spirits.
We gave you our love, wrapped you in our care,
caressed you with our smiles.
now you've left us to share what you gave us.
We grieve. We miss you so much,
but the loving memories and that tough fight you gave us
will forever be close in our hearts, our thoughts and our souls

Love You My Son

Claudia was a loving mother of two kids (Marial Albert), and (Steve Albert). She was also a loving wife of two years to (Anthony Howard) also a loving daughter to her mom (Shelia Albert). Along with her nieces, nephews, and cousins she loved dearly.

Wells, Maine- S.C. Terance O'Mahoney, 77 of Wells, died on December 19, 2014 at York Hospital.

Terry was born in Plymouth, England, on July 25, 1937, and raised there and in London until he emigrated to the United States in 1959. After landing in New York, he approached the Greyhound Bus Terminal and inquired after the most expensive one-way ticket available. He was soon relieved of his 99 dollars and found himself in San Francisco shortly thereafter.

Following his arrival in California, Terry enlisted in the U.S. Army, where he was assigned as a field artillery forward observer, and promptly stationed along the border with Czechoslovakia in U.S.-occupied West Germany. To his chagrin, and his future family’s gratitude, Terry passed an uneventful tour free of direct contact with the Soviets until his return to the San Francisco Bay Area in 1962.

Terry spent the following years working alternately as a reserve police officer in Menlo Park and Berkeley, and a real estate appraiser before starting Allied Savings Bank in Santa Rosa, CA, by procuring the final private bank charter issued in California. His free time was occupied racing catamarans on San Francisco Bay, or big game hunts in places like the Aghileen Pinnacles in Alaska, Okavango Swamp in Botswana, and the Balkan Mountains of Communist Bulgaria. Professionally, Terry served as the CEO, President, and Chairman of the Board at Allied Savings Bank until retiring from banking in 1996.

Terry met his wife of 32 years, Kimberley Chase, in 1980, and they were married just over a year later following a swift courtship.

In 1998, after a move to the Seacoast, Terry resumed his real estate appraisal career. The family spent time in Kittery and York before settling in Wells during the summer of 2012.
He spent the last year continuing to build his appraisal business hand-in-hand with his daughter Áine, while serving as President of the Maine Chapter of the American Appraisal Institute.
In addition to his wife, family members include his daughter Áine and her husband Tom Cronin, of Exeter, NH, son Chase and his wife Claire O’Mahoney of Virginia Beach, VA, son Benedict and his wife Terry O’Mahoney, and granddaughters Tarryn and Trinity, of Foster City, CA, and his beloved black Labrador Retriever, Izzy.

The family is planning a celebration of life in the spring. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made in Terry’s name to the Portland Community Health Center, to ensure that the standard of care that Terry received continues to be available to those that need it most (portlandcommunityhealthcenter.org).

Care for the O'Mahoney family has been entrusted to the JS Pelkey Funeral Home.

Yesterday afternoon, my mum quietly passed away. As many of her family as could quickly gather were there to share her final moments, crowded reverently into her bedroom (a place far too small for that many full-grown Trokes) and, at her request, gently singing some of her favourite hymns.

It's a weird thing, writing a Facebook update like this. I've always maintained that Facebook was for seeing pictures of friends and family, and keeping them updated – and that's the spirit in which I post this. If you want to share a little moment with me, read on...

My mother has always been a large-than-life, truly formidable woman, and as I watched her frail, withered body gently give up its hold on mortality yesterday I felt a tremendous sense of relief for her. The inexorable advance of cancer may have reduced her body, but it did nothing at all to dampen her spirits or diminish her true stature.

So today I am going to pay tribute to the mum that I was always remember throughout this life: This one goes out to the towering matriarch who saw us kids off to school each morning with a “Be good,” and welcomed us back each evening with a kiss and a subtle interview to find out if we had. To the first-aider who picked gravel out of knees when bike accidents took place in the lay-by in Netley Marsh, who tended a million stinging nettle rashes and more than a few broken hearts over the years. Here's to the amazon warrioress who thundered forth from our house to lambaste the strange woman who shouted at seven-year old me so much I wet myself (true story), and who then instructed me in the error of my ways when she realised exactly 'why' I was getting shouted at in the first place. Here's to the wall-juddering shouts of “One,” that would bring five or more children scurrying from the corners of the house and beyond to answer judgement, and also to the outpouring of love and hugs that invariably followed any chastisement we earned.

Here's to the mother whose open door policy led to countless sleep-overs, sometimes with so many brothers, sisters, friends and foster-siblings that the living room floor simply wasn't enough and the tent had to go up in the garden. Here's to dinners that always went just far enough, to sandwich picnics that she made, but wasn't well enough to attend, and to the eternal council “Adam, have you offered your friend anything to eat or drink yet.” Sorry guys.

Here's to the relentless worker, who served in so many church callings that I can barely think to list them; who showed me by example what it is to prepare to teach Sunday School, who drowned a house in colourful cut-outs for Primary lessons and who tended to her sisters so diligently in Relief Society (non-church friends, my mum was a flippin' powerhouse at church when I was a kid). Here's to the woman who, when bed-ridden and not well enough to serve physically herself, deployed a legion of sons to do her bidding, and taught us to take joy in the work. I am sure few women can claim to have moved more washing machines, cleared messy garages and painted (badly) more walls by proxy than my mother. Here's to the seamstress who made dresses for proms, bridesmaids and brides for friends at church and school, to the chef who made endless cakes and dishes for socials. Here's to the choir-director and hand-waver that sang the hymns at church so loudly, and with such zeal, that it was actually a little embarrassing sometimes...

Here's to the scholar, who educated and instructed, taught me letters and numbers and a love of the English language. Who proof-read and cajoled, who demanded better when it could be achieved and soothed battered egos when it couldn't. Who has read essays on Charlemagne and Trotsky and pointed out inconsistencies you could drive a bus through. Who in later years has taken a glowing, righteous, pride in the stories and games that her efforts, put in so many years before, enabled.

So here's to the cook, the scribe, the teacher, the nurse, the counsellor, the confident, the entertainer, the budgeter, the coach and the friend (you've never seen someone lead the Galactic Empire in a game of Star Wars toys quite like my mum. My poor Ewoks). To the lady who picked me up, dusted me off and set me back at the task again, and again and again.

Finally, here's to the daughter of God, who taught me that death is not the end, and that families can be together forever. Something I still believe, even though it's not cool to do so. To the lady who made mistakes, and then put them right, who loved unconditionally and defended her own, and those she gathered to her, like a tigeress.

Finally, I'd like to offer you all my own condolences. If you've known my mum over the years, you might be feeling a little sad too. I think her most lasting legacy on this earth will be the lives she has touched, the friends she has made and the brothers and sisters she has brought into our family. So if your heart is aching a little, like mine is, it only goes to show what a splendid job she made of the incredibly hard task, of being a human.

Adam Troke, 7th April 2015

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We invite everyone to share their favourite stories and memories about Mum (Susanne) on this site. We especially invite those that are far away and unable to be with us on the 18th to share their thoughts on this page.

We would appreciate your photos, stories and memories. Before the funeral we intend to bring these all together into one place and print them for everyone to be able to see. As such we would ask if possible that people are able to add their memories prior to the end of Friday (April 10th) to allow Hannah-Sheree to do her magic.

Thanks in advance, we are excited to read everyone's contributions.

The Troke Family