Hi, this is Michael, Leni's 4th son. Yesterday a group of Leni's friends met after a lunch meeting to plant a tree in her honor. For me it was a very moving and significant moment for more than one reason. I know there are many facets to mom, and in meeting each new person with whom she had a relationship I get to see a new part of that facet; what an honor for me. This group of women, meant the world to her, and it is apparent that they to her. I am so thankful for them.
The tree is a lavendar crepe myrtle and is planted in front of McKinley Park Library. It is the second tree to the right of the front door as you face the Library. Please visit this living symbol to Leni. I know I will take my boys there regularly.
I hope to post photos of the event shortly.
mike
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Snowflakes
Hi - it's Patrick, Leni's third son.
This evening I was drawn back to my mother's blog. I read most of the comments to our postings as my Mom's condition worsened, as we brought her back home and as she passed from this world into the next. I am still moved by the experience and by all your comments to us. I am in awe of all the support we received from her friends in Sacramento.
I think often of the intensity of the experience the day my mother passed. I also think of the peaceful state in which she remained over those closing days. It provides a certain comfort, as my brothers and I have returned to our homes and jobs. We are different, but the world around us is pretty much the same. I find myself to be very introspective, carving out part of my daily routine in order to grieve, for it is a process. She taught us that well - she learned it during her days as chaplain at San Diego Hospice. I also find myself cherishing the moments and the memories - for I never want them to disappear. I fear that over time these will fade, and that saddens me.
I'm aware that the process is a long one, and no one can determine its pace, its end or what will transpire during our collective grieving.
But, through all of this, when I seek respite from my day or when I look at the small mementos of her life that I brought home with me, I hear her voice telling us those things she always used to say: "Each of you are special and unique..."; "Have a great day..."; "Be open to whatever this day brings...". If I listen closely enough, I can sometimes hear a simple "Oh, hooray!" in classic Leni fashion.
The other day I stood outside, in the middle of heavy snowstorm (March in Montreal...don't ask) trying to hear her voice speak to me. The wind softened and then stopped. The snow flakes increased in size - a half an inch in diameter - and they fell straight down out of the sky. I looked up, asking to hear her voice, but she did not answer. Instead, in the stillness, I was able to see up, thousands of feet up, through millions of falling snowflakes. I saw sunlight through grey clouds and felt her spirit with me as snow melted on my face and eyelids. Her spirit smiled upon me, and I was not sad for her, or for me.
This evening I was drawn back to my mother's blog. I read most of the comments to our postings as my Mom's condition worsened, as we brought her back home and as she passed from this world into the next. I am still moved by the experience and by all your comments to us. I am in awe of all the support we received from her friends in Sacramento.
I think often of the intensity of the experience the day my mother passed. I also think of the peaceful state in which she remained over those closing days. It provides a certain comfort, as my brothers and I have returned to our homes and jobs. We are different, but the world around us is pretty much the same. I find myself to be very introspective, carving out part of my daily routine in order to grieve, for it is a process. She taught us that well - she learned it during her days as chaplain at San Diego Hospice. I also find myself cherishing the moments and the memories - for I never want them to disappear. I fear that over time these will fade, and that saddens me.
I'm aware that the process is a long one, and no one can determine its pace, its end or what will transpire during our collective grieving.
But, through all of this, when I seek respite from my day or when I look at the small mementos of her life that I brought home with me, I hear her voice telling us those things she always used to say: "Each of you are special and unique..."; "Have a great day..."; "Be open to whatever this day brings...". If I listen closely enough, I can sometimes hear a simple "Oh, hooray!" in classic Leni fashion.
The other day I stood outside, in the middle of heavy snowstorm (March in Montreal...don't ask) trying to hear her voice speak to me. The wind softened and then stopped. The snow flakes increased in size - a half an inch in diameter - and they fell straight down out of the sky. I looked up, asking to hear her voice, but she did not answer. Instead, in the stillness, I was able to see up, thousands of feet up, through millions of falling snowflakes. I saw sunlight through grey clouds and felt her spirit with me as snow melted on my face and eyelids. Her spirit smiled upon me, and I was not sad for her, or for me.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Newport
Hi,
We are working to finalize details for the celebration of Leni's life in Newport. The service will be early in the afternoon Saturday, April 5 at St. Joseph's Church, located on Broadway. The phone number is 401-847-0065.
We'll post more details shortly.
We are working to finalize details for the celebration of Leni's life in Newport. The service will be early in the afternoon Saturday, April 5 at St. Joseph's Church, located on Broadway. The phone number is 401-847-0065.
We'll post more details shortly.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Celebrating Life
Please join us in a mass celebrating our Mother's life on Monday, March 10th at 10am, at St. Francis of Assisi Parish, 1066 26th St in Sacramento, CA. There will be a reception at the church hall immediately following.
We will also be celebrating her life at a service in several weeks in Newport, Rhode Island. We'll post more details soon.
We are asking, that instead of flowers, donations can be made to the Mercy General Hospital Foundation or San Diego Hospice.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Reflection on Wednesday March 5, 2008
Cherished Daughter, Sister, Mother, Grandmother, and friend to all -
Yesterday Wednesday March 5, 2008 was a sunny California day. You were at home in your self created sanctuary. The flowers in bloom, the grandchildren playing outside your window, fresh warm air filled your home. Your Mother, Brothers, Sister, Sons, Daughters-in-law and Grandchildren near you, and your network of friends, coworkers, extended family and companions were with you in spirit whether nearby or far away. We held you, we prayed with you, we cried and we laughed with you. You and Kevin shared a "hooray!"
It was our shared honor to be at your side as you completed your physical time with us on this earth. We know you will be with us in spirit from this day forward. You have blessed us with many gifts and taught us many lessons. We are truly grateful for every minute we shared together.
You have such a gift for being there to provide support and guidance to the people around you. You provided this support to us even throughout your dying process. You made the difficult decisions for us and in your unique way, you continued to be the caregiver to us throughout. You are truly amazing.
We felt it appropriate to share this poem from Henry Van Dyke:
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!"
"Gone where?"
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear the load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!" There are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: "Here she comes!"
And that is dying.
Yesterday Wednesday March 5, 2008 was a sunny California day. You were at home in your self created sanctuary. The flowers in bloom, the grandchildren playing outside your window, fresh warm air filled your home. Your Mother, Brothers, Sister, Sons, Daughters-in-law and Grandchildren near you, and your network of friends, coworkers, extended family and companions were with you in spirit whether nearby or far away. We held you, we prayed with you, we cried and we laughed with you. You and Kevin shared a "hooray!"
It was our shared honor to be at your side as you completed your physical time with us on this earth. We know you will be with us in spirit from this day forward. You have blessed us with many gifts and taught us many lessons. We are truly grateful for every minute we shared together.
You have such a gift for being there to provide support and guidance to the people around you. You provided this support to us even throughout your dying process. You made the difficult decisions for us and in your unique way, you continued to be the caregiver to us throughout. You are truly amazing.
We felt it appropriate to share this poem from Henry Van Dyke:
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!"
"Gone where?"
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear the load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!" There are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: "Here she comes!"
And that is dying.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Next...
Tonight, at just after 6:00 pm, Leni left us. She was surounded by her sons, daughters, mother, sister, brothers, and grandchildren. We imagine it is just how she would have wanted it. Her journey in this life now complete she starts her next journey. We will continue to hear her voice, be touched by her inspiritation, and recall her laughter. She has touched so many people in too many ways to count. In order for us all to know these stories, please respond with your own stories of Leni for us all.
We are planning a service in Sacramento for early the week of 10 March and will post details in the next day or so.
Additionally, we are planning a memorial service in Newport, RI within the next four to six weeks.
Thank you for your thoughts and prayers which have been so appreciated and have helped carry her through this process.
We are planning a service in Sacramento for early the week of 10 March and will post details in the next day or so.
Additionally, we are planning a memorial service in Newport, RI within the next four to six weeks.
Thank you for your thoughts and prayers which have been so appreciated and have helped carry her through this process.
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