In October of 1947, Anne Elizabeth Frigge was born in Vincennes, Indiana, the daughter of Rita and Bill Frigge. She spent her formative years in Vincennes before moving to Indianapolis and ultimately marrying her mate for life, Robert (Bob) L. Cheney. The couple were just shy of their 50th anniversary when Anne was diagnosed with a particularly aggressive metastatic disease, and on the morning of February 23rd, 2022, she took her last breath.
We’re not entirely certain what happened next. It could be she was swept away by angels, joining family and friends who left this world before her, and is now in a place of eternal joy where the mysteries of the universe are apparent and there is no darkness, only light. Her spirit could be guiding the writing of her obit at this very moment, we don’t know. But we can say with certainty that she is still with us. Her lips no longer smile, her eyes no longer sparkle, but the raw materials and energy that made her are, in fact, still here. Conversation may be challenging but we can still talk to her, and do.
She left us memories: the way she loved her two kids, Jason (Lisa) Cheney, and Erin (Chris) Harrison, the way her grandchildren (Alex and Sam Cheney, Logan and Mia Brashears) stole her heart with her full consent, the way she welcomed grand stepchildren (Henry and Huey Harrison) into the clan. She also left memories for a brother, Bill (Caren) Frigge, nieces Lisa Frigge and Beth (Tom) Zelibor, a sister, Lee (Joe) Scheidler, nephews Jacob and Luke Scheidler, and several grand nieces and nephews.
We will remember her love of books, her knitted baby blankets, her attention to bird feeders, her love of the ocean and daisies and pastoral landscapes. We will always regret not insisting she be a contestant on Jeopardy where she would, without doubt, have brought home the gold. We will never fully appreciate the way her life impacted others but will always be certain and deeply appreciative of how it impacted our own.
She learned of her illness during a routine wellness check. Her prognosis was grim, her time was short, but she accepted it with honorable dignity, and her courage did not wane even as weeks were quickly reduced to days. Her son, Jason, brought her a cherry italian ice 36 hours before her death, and they laughed together when her fiery red mouth freaked out the attending nurse. Her daughter, Erin, was at her side in the early morning hours when Anne slipped into the Great Unknown. She will be sorely missed.
On Anne’s request there will be no memorial or funeral. The family asks that you read a good book or install a bird feeder in her memory.