Joyce Ann Messer, 66, of New Holland, Ohio died Thursday, July 9, 2026, at 6:45 a.m. at her home.
Joyce was born on December 6, 1959, in Columbus, Ohio to Frederick Lewis and Lillie Mae Redding Self. She was a 1978 graduate of Adena High School and lived most of her life in Ross County before moving to New Holland five years ago.
She was a nursing home cook and worked over 30 years at Walnut Manor in Clarksburg and the Vinyards at Concord in Frankfort before her retirement in 2024.
She was a collector of Coca-Cola paraphernalia and enjoyed spending time with her grandchildren, nieces and nephews.
On April 15, 1995, she married Robert Lee Messer. He preceded her in death on October 2, 2016. She was also preceded by her parents and a sister, Marsha Clark.
She is survived by two sons, Richard Koon and his fiancée, Melissa White, and Matthew Koon, all of Chillicothe; her fiancé, Phil Riser; seven grandchildren, Kyson, Kaitee, Korby, Kaden, Kenleigh, Kodi and Kaycee Koon; a brother, Frederick L. Self, Jr. of Clarksburg; two sisters and brothers-in-law, Rhonda and Ronald Gozy of Chillicothe and Louise and Doug Posey of Frankfort; a sister-in-law, Lois Cain and her husband, Mike, of Loudonville and numerous nieces, nephews and cousins.
The funeral will be held Tuesday, July 14, 2026, at 1 p.m. at the Kirkpatrick Funeral Home in New Holland with the Pastor Jason Rasor, minister at the New Destiny Church of Marysville, officiating. Burial will follow in the Waterloo Cemetery in Pancoastburg, Ohio.
Friends may call at the funeral home in New Holland Tuesday, from 11a.m. until the time of the service.
www.kirkpatrickfuneralhome.com
I have struggled to find the words to say goodbye to my aunt because how do you say goodbye to someone who has been such a huge part of your life?
My aunt protected me from things that would have been too painful for me to understand as a child. She kept things from me that I wasn’t ready to know, and in her own way, she was trying to keep me safe. She fed me when she could—even if that sometimes meant ketchup sandwiches—and somehow, those simple things became some of the memories I hold closest to my heart.
She gave me some of the happiest moments of my life.
I will never stop loving her. Not for a second. Even through the years when we stopped talking, that love never disappeared. I wish more than anything that things could have been different between us. I wish we had more time. More conversations. More chances to say the things that were left unsaid. But none of that changes what she meant to me or the love I will carry for her for the rest of my life.
One of the memories that makes me smile through the tears is how she used to pull out every one of my baby teeth. She would trick me into thinking she wasn’t going to do it, and then she’d flick it out before I even knew what happened. I passed out every single time, and she thought it was absolutely hilarious. I definitely didn’t think it was funny at the time, but now, I would give anything to go back to one of those ridiculous little moments with her. It’s a memory I will cherish forever.
That’s what I want to remember most—the little things. The ketchup sandwiches. Her protecting me. Her making me laugh. Her being there during some of the happiest parts of my childhood. The silly memories that I didn’t realize would one day become treasures.
I am heartbroken that she is gone. There is so much I wish I could tell her. But if I could say just one thing to her now, it would be this:
Thank you.
Thank you for loving me. Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for feeding me ketchup sandwiches when that’s what you had to give. Thank you for giving me memories that I will carry for the rest of my life.
I hope you know that I never stopped loving you.
I love you, Auntie. I always have. I always will.
Rest peacefully. ❤️