Welcome to my profile! Many of these memorials are from my family tree – but not all of them. I am happy to transfer any memorial to you, if I'm not related or you're a closer relative than I am. I believe it's best that memorials are maintained by those family members who care about them, no matter how you are related to them.

Some of them were created by my late father Bruce Maddox Stewart, who spent years researching our Stewart line, which goes back to Foss, Dull Parish, Perthshire in Scotland.

Thank you, family historians everywhere, for all your work! If your loved ones lack interest, just remember what an important job you're doing anyway. Future descendants and family researchers will see your work, and think of you with love and appreciation. You will live on, just as you are making sure others are remembered.

I'd like to quote novelist Daphne du Maurier 's heartfelt words from her biography of her ancestors, "The du Mauriers" -

"Whether immortality is true, or is a theory invented by man as a sop to his natural fear, none of us will ever know; but it is consoling and rather tender to imagine that when we die we leave something of ourselves, like the wake of a vessel, as a reminder that once we passed this way.

"There are footprints in the sand, and the mark of a hand upon a wall. There are flowers pressed between the pages of a book, colourless and flat, to which a dim fragrance clings. There are letters, crumpled and yellow with age, but the message they bring stares up at the reader with vital, living force, as though they were penned yesterday.

"Ghosts there are in plenty—not phantoms with pale faces trailing their chains into eternity, not headless horrors creaking upon the boards of lonely houses, but the happy shadow-ghosts of what has been, no more fearful than the blurred photographs in the family album.

"Whoever has loved much, felt deeply, trodden a certain path in happiness or pain, leaves an imprint of himself for evermore.

"There are echoes for those who care to listen, and visions for him who dreams. There are scents that linger in the air, and whispers of the years that are gone.

"When the turmoil of the present day becomes like thunder in the ears, and the strain of modern life a burden too heavy to be borne, it is pleasant to shut out sound and sight and lose oneself in that silent shadow-world that marches a hand's breadth from our own."

Welcome to my profile! Many of these memorials are from my family tree – but not all of them. I am happy to transfer any memorial to you, if I'm not related or you're a closer relative than I am. I believe it's best that memorials are maintained by those family members who care about them, no matter how you are related to them.

Some of them were created by my late father Bruce Maddox Stewart, who spent years researching our Stewart line, which goes back to Foss, Dull Parish, Perthshire in Scotland.

Thank you, family historians everywhere, for all your work! If your loved ones lack interest, just remember what an important job you're doing anyway. Future descendants and family researchers will see your work, and think of you with love and appreciation. You will live on, just as you are making sure others are remembered.

I'd like to quote novelist Daphne du Maurier 's heartfelt words from her biography of her ancestors, "The du Mauriers" -

"Whether immortality is true, or is a theory invented by man as a sop to his natural fear, none of us will ever know; but it is consoling and rather tender to imagine that when we die we leave something of ourselves, like the wake of a vessel, as a reminder that once we passed this way.

"There are footprints in the sand, and the mark of a hand upon a wall. There are flowers pressed between the pages of a book, colourless and flat, to which a dim fragrance clings. There are letters, crumpled and yellow with age, but the message they bring stares up at the reader with vital, living force, as though they were penned yesterday.

"Ghosts there are in plenty—not phantoms with pale faces trailing their chains into eternity, not headless horrors creaking upon the boards of lonely houses, but the happy shadow-ghosts of what has been, no more fearful than the blurred photographs in the family album.

"Whoever has loved much, felt deeply, trodden a certain path in happiness or pain, leaves an imprint of himself for evermore.

"There are echoes for those who care to listen, and visions for him who dreams. There are scents that linger in the air, and whispers of the years that are gone.

"When the turmoil of the present day becomes like thunder in the ears, and the strain of modern life a burden too heavy to be borne, it is pleasant to shut out sound and sight and lose oneself in that silent shadow-world that marches a hand's breadth from our own."