Our family held a small and private service for Arlene in Boulder, CO on November 9, 2021. We were able to spend quiet and contemplative moments, to laugh and remember great times, to say prayers, and to say a fond goodbye.

Mario's musical tribute to Arlene was played as he stood by her side:

1. I Will Follow You, by Ricky Nelson
"I love you, I love you, I love you
And where you go I'll follow, I'll follow, I'll follow
You'll always be my true love, my true love, my true love
From now until forever, forever, forever."

2. They Long To Be Close to You, by The Carpenters
"On the day that you were born the angels got together
And decided to create a dream come true.
So, they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold
And star light in your eyes of blue."

3. Wind Beneath My Wings, by Bette Midler
"Thank you, thank you, thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings."

A wonderful service of reverence for Arlene was held with annoiting oils while everyone took turns remembering something about her.

Chris then gave some remarks about Arlene's life, reprinted below.

After a few more private moments of remembrance and quiet, there was a closing prayer and the service concluded.

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Remarks

There is a wonderful saying in Hebrew for times like this: zichrona livracha. It means, “May her memory be a blessing.”

This sums up how we feel right now. Please allow me to share some thoughts and memories.

Mom was born in the middle of America, in Chicago, less than 3 months before Pearl Harbor. Imagine the anxiety of those times for her parents... Mom had a father and a half brother who served in the military during World War II. Before his service in the Navy, her father Jack had been a dance instructor, a cab driver and later a civilian cost analyst for the U.S. Air Force. Later her family moved to Kansas City.

In something that must have shaped her childhood, she lost her father when she had just turned 12. It was something she rarely spoke of, but she had fond memories and in recent years she would sometimes call out for Papa in her sleep. After her father's death, her mother Martha worked as a telephone operator for Southwestern Bell for more than four decades.

Mom graduated North Kansas City HS in 1959. She was in the varsity pep squad, the French club, and she had a strong interest in dramatics and was a member of the Imposters drama club. And perhaps in a portent of the future, she was a member of the Y-Teens club.

She had one of the lead roles in the senior production of My Sister Eileen, which had been a popular movie in 1955 starring Jack Lemon and Janet Leigh. Mom co-starred in the play as Ruth, a young girl from the Midwest who moved to New York to be an aspiring writer. Again, Mom played true to form.

She had a lifelong interest in the language arts, literature, writing, the theater, and reading … all of which she passed on and encouraged in her children and grandchildren, who as toddlers always loved it when she read to them.

She went to college at the University of Missouri and studied English, and she was active in the Alpha Phi sorority. She stayed active for decades, even being in a Virginia alumni chapter in retirement.

She was briefly a teacher … an English teacher, of course… and then married her life partner Dad in 1962, nearly 60 years ago.

Only 2 years later, at age 22, she became a mom.

And what a Mom! My earliest memories are of Mom. Mom making me PB&J sandwiches, Mom taking me to the park, Mom sitting with her friend Anna who was like a sister to her, Mom taking me to musical nursery school, and seeing Mom when she brought Leslie home from the hospital.

Later in New Jersey, Mom took us to the pool, to activities, she was a room mother and a school volunteer. She kept us safe and happy. She was always there, always looking on the bright side, and always kind and optimistic.

She made many, many friends and tried new things. She did tennis, running, aerobics, skiing, later golf. She brought to each of these her qualities of patience, persistence, grace, and often humor.

I have a memory of Mom skiing during a “Savages” ski trip in New England... she was slowly, gracefully, deliberately coming down the mountain... and then falling over in the lift line! This happened more than once, I’m afraid. She would get herself hopelessly tangled up with others, laughing the whole time. I can hear her laugh right now.

I remember Mom golfing in Williamsburg... her swing was very graceful and deliberate... counting up her shots on some beads she carried with her. But she would often have more shots than beads! Again, this happened more than once, I'm afraid. But every time, it would cause that wonderful self-deprecating laughter.

So, Mom wasn’t the greatest skiier or golfer. But what matters is that she didn't give up, she stuck with it, simply drew joy from the experience, and found ways to laugh at herself. This is a great quality she passed to her grandsons. When I see them dribble a basketball, or do tae kwon do, or play football or golf, maybe at first they’re not the best at it. But here's what matters: they stick with it, they’re determined, they improve greatly over time, and they enjoy themselves in the moment. When the boys persevere and break a board or score a touchdown, I can see just a little bit of their grandmother in their smiles.

When Leslie and I got a little older, Mom did something that was still a bit unusual at the time, which was to start a second career. She worked at the Summit YMCA for 15 or so years until she retired. I remember her farewell party in NJ. Someone said it well: Mom didn't have a single job title because she did a bit of everything. She started by writing press materials and doing publicity (there’s the love of language again) and she built awareness of Y programs in the community. Over time her role grew into doing a bit of everything. She oversaw staff, she solved member problems. She was patient, and could be graceful and good humored even when old guys got locked out of the dressing room, or some kid pooped in the pool. Very simply, she helped the place run and brought grace and good humor to it every day.

When she and Dad retired they enjoyed life to the fullest. They traveled widely and visited dozens of countries. They made many new friends, bought artwork, and enjoyed social activities in Williamsburg.

She was blessed with a great life partner in Dad. To watch them dance was the picture of elegance. I once took lessons to try to learn to dance like that and let me tell you it was a waste of money. At least in my case, can't speak for Leslie, I think that skill must have skipped a generation.

Decades ago Mom gave me some good advice. She told me that the key to happiness in life is to find something to do, someone to love, something to look forward to. I think she came across it in her reading. I’ve always remembered that, and I know that my own underlying optimism and ability to look on the bright side comes from Mom.

I have to say a word about last few years. Mom knew what was happening to her. It could be hugely frustrating for her. But she bore it with as much grace as her condition would allow. It was a long goodbye, but it gave us all many chances to tell Mom that we loved her and to say thank you for all she had done.

For decades Mom took care of us. Later in life it was our turn -- especially Dad and Leslie -- to care for her. It was hard for them. Dad, you were a rock in everything you did for Mom and were always there for her. Leslie, I hope you take solace and pride in your fierce and loving advocacy for Mom, and in giving her the best possible care and as much comfort and peace as was possible. Michael, thank you for supporting Leslie and all of us, and for loving Mom as a second son. The wonderful care she received these last years was because of the three of you. Thank you.

There is a phrase in the Latin Bible -- Imago Dei -- the image of God. It refers to when we see the image of God in other people. I saw the Imago Dei in Mom's many caregivers: Denise, Yajaira, all the staff at Frasier, and also in her many great friends from New Jersey and Virginia who supported her. Thank you.

So it’s time to say goodbye, for now. My coworker Kathy told me that in her church they don't call it a funeral, they call it a home-going. It means going home to be with the Lord and with those who departed before. We will be sad, but we know Mom is with the Lord, and that we will see her in our dreams until we meet her again.

In Matthew 5:4, Jesus says, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” And in the 34th Psalm we are reminded that “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted.”

We mourn, and we are brokenhearted. But zichrona livracha -- May Her Memory be a Blessing.

Her memory will surely be a blessing, and a comfort, for everyone whose life she touched.