Obit: Sechler, Josephine A. (1850? – 1882)
Contact: Crystal Wendt
Email: crystalwendt@aol.com

Surnames: Sechler, Roberts

Source: Neillsville Times (Neillsville, Clark County, Wis.) 18 April 1882

Sechler, Josephine A. (1850? – 7 April 1882)

We find the following notice of the death of Mrs. Sechler, sister of our esteemed townsman, Dwight Roberts, in the Black River Falls Banner:

In Memoriam.

Sechler – Mrs. Josephine A. Sechler, wife of Charles Sechler, died at her residence in Sechlerville, Wisconsin, of pulmonary consumption, April 7th, 1882, aged thirty-two years.

She was grown up among us from childhood, was educated at Galesville University, where she was distinguished as one of the leading students, greatest minds and purest characters chose her for their most intimate friends. She was modest, unassuming member of the Presbyterian Church. She possessed a philosophical mind that lifted her into a high spiritual atmosphere and excelled in true womanly virtues. She has left behind her the impress of a well ordered life, has been taken from a model home of her own fashioning, in which she ruled with a accepter of love, and when the Master called he found her home set in order.

For months she was conscious that the sands of life were almost run, yet not a murmur escaped her lips. She spent her decreasing strength in cheering her loved ones, but could stay to comfort them no longer.

To her “twas not all of life to live, nor all of death to die.”

Ten years of unalloyed happiness her husband has spent with her, nor did he release her till the angels elapsed her on the other shore. Thus has he been led down out of light into the dark loneliness of bereavement. Shuddering did he turn from it with the cry, “Let this cup pass; let not its bitterness touch my soul.” God has woven the cross with the crown, and we must submit.

Holiest ties bind him to his earthly home. A golden link now holds him to his heavenly one. At this time words seem but a bitter mockery. Her husband has lost one that ministered to every want of a refined and intelligent mind, her two children, a wise, practical and loving mother, her mother and brothers, one they could not spare, the community, one whose example it would be well to emulate.

The following is a beautifully said poem, found by her husband the morning after her death, where it has been carefully placed by her hand:

I AM DYING.

Raise my pillow, husband, dearest—

Faint and fainter comes my breath; and these shadows stealing slowly, Must, I know, be those of death; Sit down close beside me, darling, let me clasp your warm, strong hand, Yours that ever has sustained me To the border of this land.

For your God and mine, our Father, Thence shall ever lead us on; Where, upon a throne eternal, Sits his loved and only son; I’ve had visions, and been dreaming, O’er the past of joy and pain; Year by year I’ve wondered backward, Till I was a child again.

Dreaming of girlhood and the moment When I stood your wife and bride, How my heart thrilled love’s triumph, In that hour of woman’s pride; Dearing of thee and all the earth-cords Firmly twined around my heart—O, the bitter, burning anguish—when I first knew he must part.

It has passed and God has promised All thy foot-steps to attend: He that’s more than friend and brother, He’ll be with you to the end, There’s no shadow o’er the portals, Leading to thy heavenly house; Christ has promised life immortal, And ‘tis, he that *[few words blurred here.]

When life’s trails await souring then, and its chilling billows swell, thoul’t thank heaven that I’m spared thee, Thoul’t then feel that “all is well.” Bring our children unto my bedside, my last blessing, let them keep – But they’re sleeping, do not wake them, They’ll learn soon enough to weep.

Tell them often of their mother, Kiss them for me when they awake, Lead them gently if life’s pathway.

* * *

Note: there maybe more to this poem. This was all that was available at the time of transcribing.