Eulogy for Ottilie Bulakites by her son-in-law, Gary Spenik:

Hello everyone. I am Gary Spenik and I am one of Ottilie’s two sons-in-law. I say,
“son-in-law” but the truth is that Ottilie always treated me like her son. In fact, Debbie
has frequently insisted that her mom likes me better than her. (Mostly because I get more
money in my birthday cards). Of course, I have always denied this for the sake of my
marriage, but it really was true.

Joking aside, Ottilie was a mother to me – for a dozen years longer than my own,
biological mom. She was always there for both of us - and for all of us once we had kids
- ready to share her wise and always practical advice. This was hard for me to get used to
because, as one of six children, I had never experienced the kind of intimate discussions
that Deb and Ottilie had. It was new to me to realize that Deb kept her mom informed
about everything in our lives (well, not everything). This was brought home to me when
Deb was pregnant with our second child and her water broke. Not being sure if she was
actually in labor (she was), she didn’t call her doctor. She called her mom (who told her
to call the doctor). This never changed. I know Deb sought Ottilie’s advice about a work
problem only a few weeks before Ottilie died.

Losing Ottilie feels like the end of an era – not just for our family, but for many of
our friends and the organizations to which she belonged. She was a member of the
Greatest Generation and she actively displayed many, if not all, of the character traits of
that group, including personal responsibility, integrity, humility, a strong work ethic, a
desire to serve, and commitment to everything she did. Ottilie approached life with
energy and good cheer. She was practical to her soul. When one of our kids fell off a
bike, she’d say, “You have to get up and get right back on.” If they were afraid of doing
something new, she’d advise that, “It’s easier if you just jump right in.” And, lest we
forget, “Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

She knew from personal experience. Raised during the Great Depression, she
watched her high school boyfriends march off to World War II and her baby brother to
the Korean War. Twice widowed and a single mother to two children at the age of 47, her
most frequent admonition to Deb was not to “fuss” about things. She believed that hard
things happen, but if you keep walking forward good things will happen again - advice
which we are all trying to follow right now when her absence is such a big hole in our
lives. Ottilie knew what was important - friendship, generosity, hard work, and living a
life of purpose.

Ottilie was brave. She didn’t just tell you to get back on your bike, jump in with
both feet; or believe that any and all things can make us better and stronger, but she also
did them. As Dan has said, she loved to travel, to socialize, to volunteer, and to spend
time with her grandchildren. She taught her daughters that it was okay to like your job,
spending over 40 years as an obstetrics and gynecology nurse - first in hospitals and then
in the private practice of J. Brooks Hoffman. Still, although she worked full-time
throughout Deb’s childhood, she was consistently available to her when needed. Deb says
that some of her best memories are not of classic family dinners or outings, but the times
that she and her mom spent together on the road - meeting at church at 7 am to go to
Morning Prayer and have breakfast together and then running off to work and school in
their separate cars; grabbing food to go and hopping in the car on weekday evenings to
drive to Rainbow Girl meetings all over the state when Debbie was a Grand Officer and
commuting and working together when Debbie had a part-time job in her doctor’s office.
An enthusiastic member of The Episcopal Church and masonic social service
organizations, she loved being in community and caring for other people. She held
various leadership roles in Eastern Star, Amaranth, and Rainbow Girls, also supporting
Deb by practicing ritual and driving her all over Connecticut when Deb was a Rainbow
Grand officer. Her prodigious work for the Episcopal Church in Connecticut began when
she entered the St. Cecilia’s girls’ choir at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Stamford at the
tender age of six. Over the span of her life, Ottilie performed multiple roles in the church,
both in Stamford and at St. John the Evangelist Church in Yalesville, where she served
on the vestry in her 80s! It is perhaps not surprising that she ended up with two daughters
who are both Episcopal priests, but, when asked about how this happened Ottilie
minimized her contribution, remarking only, “Yes, well, I must have done something
wrong.”

Like so many others of her generation, Ottilie’s most distinguishing trait was
faithfulness – a belief about what is right and the will to do it regardless of the personal
cost – and to do it without “fuss” and bother. She remembered birthdays, preparing cards
ahead of time so she would be sure to get them to you for your special day. In our house,
a birthday was never official until Grammy called and sang “Happy Birthday” over the
phone. If you were sick, she would call and see how you were doing. If you were having
trouble learning something, she would sit and help you. She voted in every election of her
life, including the last one.

Ottilie and I got along well, partly, I think, because we both like to tease. She was
also so quick to pick up a joke. Once when she and Sidnie came to visit us in California,
Deb had to work, so I took them around on a tour. When we picked Deb up from work,
she was very excited to show her family around. Alas, at each and every stop, just as she
was going to launch into an explanation or story about the significance of that place,
Ottilie would say, “Gary already told us.” She got so much mileage out of that story that
from that time forward every once in a while, just when Debbie started to tell a story (no
matter what the topic was), Ottilie would say, “Gary already told us.” She had the timing
of Jack Benny. Our son Nick loved nothing more than when his Grammy would shake
her cane at him and tell him he’d better watch it or else. It never occurred to Nick that
Grammy wasn’t being funny; he knew how much his Grammy loved his brother and
him, no matter what.

I know that as much as she loved them, sometimes she had to work at
understanding and supporting them because the world they live in is so different from the
one she grew up in. But perhaps that was the most amazing thing about Ottilie; she was
always ready, willing, and able to learn new things. She read constantly and loved to talk
about what she was reading. She watched the news and read her email every day. Deb
used to hold her up as an example when people at Deb’s church said they couldn’t use a
QR code or download an online church bulletin. No matter who claimed age as a reason
for refusing to learn new things, Deb would cite Ottilie, who, although sometimes forced
to use firm language when dealing with her computer, would not be defeated by changing
technology or cultural mores. She had an amazing capacity to adapt and made her
decisions. based on what made sense to her, not what society told her she was supposed
to believe.

Relationships were critically important to Ottilie. When I was going through
family photos to put together the slide show that you can watch during the reception,
there were literally hundreds of amazing photos of Ottilie. From the picture of her as a
three-year-old with a big bow and a mischievous smile to her beaming face visiting with
her niece and nephew and their children days before she died, Ottilie was always fully in
the moment and ready to dance, sing, tell jokes and laugh with us. She could turn any
story into a comedy routine and charm even the most snobbish professional into her
number one fan.

Ottilie retained her independence, intellect and common sense right up to the end
of her life. When I visited her in the hospital, several staff members described her as their
favorite patient. Deb told me that when she left the hospital to return home for hospice
care, hospital staff came in from other units, stayed longer on their shifts, or started shifts
early so they could say good-bye to her. One staff person sang hymns with her. Several
cried. I know how they felt. Very few people are fortunate enough to have a mother-inlaw that treats them like one of the family. I had one that always made me feel not only like her own child, but one who was wanted, needed, and loved. What an amazing gift.