Olive Fredericka Parker

OLIVE FREDERICKA STORM PARKER, 95.91 years on this earth, (just 31 days shy of 96) departed peacefully from Cedar Valley Hospice Home about 6:30pm on Saturday, February 11, 2012, continuing on her personal journey. Olive was born to Amelia M. L'Herault Storm and James F. Storm on March 14, 1916 at their home on Knox Avenue in Minneapolis, MN. She graduated from North Minneapolis High School and worked at the Federal Reserve Bank there until her marriage to Lee Edwin Parker, Jr. on June 7, 1941. They raised two children in Waterloo, Iowa where Olive also volunteered with The Red Cross, developed a mad passion for bridge, and served as the Elklets' Noble Dame. (The ladies' auxiliary of the BPOE, in which Lee was a very active member.) In December of 1971, they retired to Tucson, AZ and settled into the desert life. There, she honed her bridge-playing skills to a fine edge. Olive lived an intrepid life in the Southwest, trying many things new: skiing, scuba diving, working in a retail environment and traveling to far-flung corners of the earth by land, sea, and air. After Lee was gone, Olive returned to Waterloo and lived three more glorious years filled with old friends, new friends, true friends, bonhomie, and nostalgic trips down memory lane. Preceded by: Husband Lee (also just 31 days shy of 65 years of marriage), Mother Amelia, Father Jim, Brother John, and far too many of her peers. Survived by: Son Gregory John (Theresa) Parker, Daughter Pamela Jo Parker (Arneil Olson), Four Grandchildren, Five Great Grandchildren, Four Grandpuppies, Two Grandkitties, and too numerous friends to count. Olive's final wishes include no public services, but that you all celebrate the lives of yourselves and your families on a daily basis. In lieu of flowers, memorials may be sent to Dahl-Van Hove-Schoof Funeral Home, Cedar Falls, IA whence the family will disperse them to Olive's favorite charities. In the wake of her gentle good nature, she left this bit of wisdom: As Olive lay comfortably and peacefully in the loving care of her hospice nurses and aides, her wide-eyed gaze of wonder focused on some distant point, she was asked "What do you see?" An enigmatic smile accompanied her soft reply: "When you're 96, you'll see" She took very little with her on this most personal of journeys; her favorite hat, a really stylish ensemble, a small bag containing her Kleenex, a pack of cigarettes, some matches and a towel. Olive also managed to slip away with the mystery of Whatever Happened That Night Up At The Old Mill