After 89 years of service and sacrifice, love and laughter, and the making of magical memories, our beloved mother, grandmother and great grandmother, RaMona Neeley Hull, has completed her assignments on earth. On August 9, 2026, her dear husband, Kenneth, took her hand and led her away from us and on to her next great adventure. The hole that is left in our hearts is one that cannot be filled.

Our mother was born on November 25, 1936, in the home she would grow up in, in Franklin, Idaho. Her dear parents are Marvin and Nola Neeley. She grew up with one older sister, Gaye (Winward).

Her young life was full of exciting adventures on the farm, activities in school in Franklin and learning and growing at home and in church. She graduated from Preston (Idaho) High School in 1955.

Her world expanded as far as Ogden, Utah when, after graduation, she attended business school and got a job with the Bureau of Reclamation in Ogden. It is in Ogden where she met a young man named Kenneth on a city bus, he asked her out, and the rest is history.

They were married in the Logan Temple of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on September 10, 1958. Their family increased over time with the birth of one daughter and four sons. Their daughter, LeAnn, died the day she was born and was buried in Hooper, Utah. Three of their sons: Marvin, David, and Kallen were born in St. Anthony, Idaho where Kenneth was teaching L.D.S. Seminary. Kevin joined the family when the family moved to Tremonton, Utah and Kenneth began teaching in the public-school system.

As her family grew, RaMona’s adventures increased. She would often marvel that a girl from Franklin, Idaho could travel to countries of Europe, the Caribbean, the islands of Polynesia and around the United States. Her first scary airplane experience didn’t come until she flew to Arizona to visit Marvin who was working in Phoenix after he graduated from law school. After that she’d go anywhere (after a heart to heart interview with the pilot AND with eyes closed from take-off to landing—AND with lots of little squeals along the way). In her heart she loved every minute because she was always travelling either with her family or to visit her family.

However, she will not be remembered for the miles she travelled or the places she has visited. Rather, she will be remembered for the things she was constantly doing for others, across the street or just down the road.

Chances are those of you who are reading this or may hear it in a funeral service have received one of the hundreds of birthday cards, usually hand-made, that she sent each year for decades. Maybe you or one you love has been the recipient of a widow or neighbor gift she made and would deliver at Christmas. There is a good possibility your name and address is on some list somewhere or mentioned in her years and years of tiny but sweet journal entries. You may have read her decades of work as she proudly kept her ward informed of all events and happenings on a weekly basis for 37 years in what was known as the Riverview Reminder.

Whether you know it or not you have probably had a slice of one of the thousands of award-winning bundt cakes she made (and continued to make with Kevin’s help) until the day Dad took her hand and led her away. That single bundt cake pan may be the only thing her sons fight over with her passing.

It, truly, is not the callings she fulfilled with all her heart, her work in school cafeterias, volunteering around Box Elder County or other accolades she received that meant the most to her, but the quiet things done by a simple yet elegant woman, things that meant the world to one person at a time.

Mom always had a heart full of gratitude—and no tribute would be appropriate without thanking certain people in a public way. First, her son Kevin, whose devotion and sacrifice allowed Mom to be where she wanted to be for as long as possible—her little piece of heaven in East Tremonton. Next, dear neighbors and friends, some who came to see how she was, or would do her hair, or bring a zucchini—not because they were assigned to, but because they loved her. Gratitude to those she was able to associate with at church or at a ball game or in the grocery store. Gratitude to her religious leaders who recognized her later challenges and brought the church to her when she couldn’t make it to her church. Gratitude to CNS Nursing Services for their support and advice. Gratitude to others with special knowledge who sacrificed for her and her family. Gratitude to a community that she loved, a community that now works and plays and lives with things that she and Dad started and that no one would even associate any longer with their names because they did them so quietly, one person, one activity, one event at a time.

RaMona was preceded in death by her dear Kenneth; daughter, LeAnn; her parents, sister and others. We see in our minds eye, RaMona and Kenneth hand in hand with their sweet LeAnn, joyfully walking through “meadows of clover” together, as we speak. She is survived by her sons and grand and great grandchildren: Marvin (Laura Lee, MarleeAnn, Kenden and Emmy and a new great grandchild due in February), David (DeAnn, Jasmine and Brenden Cannon with their three sweet sons, Jordan and Brisa with three little gems, Jenika, and Jaden and Renae and their darling little girl), Kallen and Kevin.

Funeral services will be held in the Riverview Ward Chapel (Deweyville, Utah) on Friday, August 21, 2026, at 10:00 A.M. A viewing will be held at Rudd Funeral Home- Tremonton (111 N 100 E- Tremonton) on Thursday, August 20, 2026, from 6:00 to 8:00 P.M. and again from 8:30 to 9:30 A.M. on August 21 in the Riverview Ward Relief Society Room . Bundt cake will be served : )

HER HANDS

Take a look at these hands twisted, wrinkled with age

And just think of the things they have done.

Just imagine the places they’ve been, what they’ve seen.

Memories, special, each and every one.

As a child they played with dolls, worked on the farm,

Held the bat when she hit that home run.

As a teen they held pom poms and wrote school reports,

Guided bikes, tractors, cars—had such fun.

They held a man’s hand across alters of white,

Became part of sweet promises there.

Then returned to that alter again and again

As with others, those blessings she’d share.

They cradled her little ones, put Band-Aids on

They held those she loved close and tight.

They comforted friends, parents, others so dear

For a moment or all through the night.

Creating and writing, embroidery work,

Crochet, needle point. They didn’t rest.

Never still for a moment were these special hands.

Each project, she made it her best.

Crooked and wrinkled and twisted with love.

It becomes easy to understand

Why they look like they do when you know what they’ve done

These things we call simply, HER HANDS.