Frances Q Upchurch

Frances " Frannie or Fran" Q Upchurch (Ramos)  

Frances Q Upchurch, age 67, of Arlington, Indiana, passed away on October 15, 2023. She was born on December 3, 1955, in Mexico City, Mexico, to the late Julio and Augustina Ramos. Fran was a beloved wife, sister, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother.

Fran was one of the most kind, considerate, generous, and loving people you could ever know. She was a long-time member of the church of Christ and loved the Lord with all her heart. Fran always looked for opportunities to share the Gospel and would often send cards and notes of encouragement to those she heard about.

In her professional life, Fran worked as a rural route carrier for the Greenfield Post Office. She was dedicated to her job and served her community faithfully.

Outside of work, Fran had a wide range of hobbies and interests. She enjoyed traveling, camping, fishing, cooking, and reading. She had a curious mind and was always eager to learn new things. Fran had a zest for life and found joy in the simple pleasures.

Fran is survived by her loving husband, sister, son, two grandchildren, and four great-grandchildren. She cherished her family and was a pillar of strength and support for them.

This World Is Not My Home

This world is not my home, I’m just a-passing through,

My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue;

The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,

And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.

Refrain:

O Lord, You know I have no friend like You,

If heaven’s not my home, then, Lord, what will I do?

The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,

And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.

They’re all expecting me, and that’s one thing I know—

My Savior pardoned me, and now I onward go;

I know He’ll take me through though I am weak and poor,

And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.

I have a loving Savior up in glory-land,

I don’t expect to stop until I with Him stand;

He’s waiting now for me in heaven’s open door,

And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.

Just up in glory-land we’ll live eternally,

The saints on every hand are shouting victory,

Their songs of sweetest praise drift back from heaven’s shore,

And I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.