On January 18th 2016, my dear Mother passed away. I am still dealing with this incredible loss, but decided to post her Eulogy that I wrote and presented at her Memorial Service. I had not read it since that day, but having just done so, I somehow feel a bit better. Perhaps by me sharing her amazing story, it may help others to love, laugh, live life to its fullest, and appreciate each other more. God Bless You, Maman.
Berthe Leonie Lannoy
Gerard
Wife to Armand Gerard
for 39 years, Mother to Patrick, Veronique and Armand, Grandmother to Anne,
Justin, Luc, Mary, Marc, Matt, Adam, Kallie, Kaitlyn and Cameron. Great Grandmother to Simon, Charlotte,
Leopold, Frederick, and due in a few short weeks, her fifth great
grandchild. Cherished by our spouses
Rick, Karin, Tricia, Kevin and Beau.
I would be remiss if I
did not take this opportunity to thank my sister-in-law, Karin, for all the
care and love she gave her these past few years. I will be forever grateful.
She was born in the
picturesque village of Han-sur-Lesse in the southern region of Belgium on
February 15th, 1930. One of six children
who grew up in a tourist village known for some of the most magnificent caves
in Europe. Her childhood was filled with
the joys of being part of a beautiful large family filled with love, God, and
hard work. She, along with her siblings,
worked in the caves along side their Father, as it truly was the "family
business." She was such a sweet
little girl who was definitely a "home body." She never even wanted to stay the night at a
friends’ home or family member, as she preferred to always remain at home. How ironic that she would be the only child
to move from Belgium, 6,000 miles away...
It is this village that
brought my parents together. Papa was
doing an internship at one of its' largest Hotel/Restaurants. Also working in the kitchen was one of my
Uncles. One day, Papa asked him if he
knew of anyone who would be able to clean and sharply press his white chef
coats, and my Uncle Maurice quickly responded, "My sister will do
it!" She always did have the best
laundry skills......;-) Not surprising,
she fell in love with the handsome, charming, young blond Chef. The feeling was definitely mutual. My Dad used to say that there still remains
marks in front of the hotel in the form of a figure 8, from my Mom riding her
bicycle in hopes of catching a glimpse of him.
She was 18 years old.
Very early in their
relationship, on a romantic walk, my Dad proposed to her on “the little wall”
which always remained a special visit on our trips back to Han. So much so that
this past December, my brother Armand asked his now wife Tricia to marry him at
the exact same spot.
There would be many
adventures in their future. So much so,
that we all thought she should have written a book. Dad still had to do his two year Military
Service, and upon completion, they married.
She was 21. Dad had purchased the
little General Store L’Abeille, where they worked and lived in the upstairs
apartment. Patrick was born nine months
later. That was just a stepping stone to
the first real adventure. They accepted
a position in the Belgian Congo, and the little village girl was on her way
with the love of her life, and little Patrick.
They both worked so incredibly hard running two different resort
hotels. What an undertaking, and so
impressive for such young people. He had
a plan, of course. Work hard, make good
money, save it for the ultimate goal and dream he had of immigrating to
America. They stayed in the Congo for 4
years, leaving earlier than they had expected due to the uprising that was
brewing, just prior to the revolution.
They returned to Belgium in early 1958, safe and sound. What amazing memories and stories came from
those years.
Now was the time to
make the next big step that my Dad had dreamed of since he was a young
boy. America! Paperwork finally complete, Mom pregnant with
me, Patrick now five years old, new Peugeot car in tow on the ship, they were
on their way to New York! Apparently in
those days, one was not allowed to immigrate if the woman was more than 5
months pregnant. Adamant that this child
was going to be born in America, he fibbed, made my Mother attempt to look less
pregnant, and off they went. I was born
in New York two months later. I have
always been so proud of his tenacity and to be the first born American in our
family.
Five wonderful years in
New York living the American dream on Long Island, ultimately owning a small
restaurant called, "Au Petit Restaurant." It was a good life, but California was
rambling in his head. She never
questioned his decisions and once again, they were off! She loved him unconditionally.
We ended up in Anaheim,
and Armand was born in 1967. They owned
several restaurants, most notably, "The Continental," "The Old
Belgium," and ultimately "The Packing House." I believe most marriages would never survive
their rigorous lifestyle and being together literally 24 hours a day. You know what they say, behind every great
man is a great woman. No truer words
could be spoken to describe their relationship.
It was full of intense love, respect, singing, joie de vivre, and most
importantly, humor. At the Old Belgium they had various large chalkboards that
my Dad would write clever notes on. I
remember one that was changed one day in the front entrance. It read, "My wife requests some
affection, so we will now be closed on Mondays!" I can still hear her saying...."Oh,
Armand!" :-)
When they left Anaheim
for Menifee in 1976, it was with the hope to live a much calmer, less stressful
life. Life on the little ranch... Still a lot of work tending to the goats,
pigs, horses, chickens, geese, and various other fowl, but they simply loved every aspect of their life there. They had a magnificent garden, she made bread
bi-weekly, made cheese, and they even slaughtered goats and the occasional
pig. She was ALWAYS by his side. Life was so good.
Mom became very
involved with her local Woman's Club, and I believe she held every board
position multiple times. She made some
amazing friendships with those ladies that she cherished deeply. She also was a volunteer at the voting booths
for every single election that ever took place during her years in
Menifee. She truly enjoyed her volunteer
work, and I am certain that her incredible sense of American pride, along with
my Dad of course, molded my passion for politics.
There were some very
good years there, but sadly, Papa was taken from her by cancer at the very young age of 60. Devastating.
We were all extremely concerned about her well being after his passing. They were inseperable. She went through some incredibly difficult and
life altering times, but I firmly believe that is was those 5 grandchildren
that kept her going.
I am fully aware that all
Grandmothers are wonderful, but please forgive me as I am a bit biased. She was known as "Memere." I remember when I learned that I was going to
be a Grandmother, I mentioned to my kids that I would love to be called
"Memere." I was quickly corrected,
in a kind way, that there was only ONE "Memere." Obviously, they were correct.
She was part of their
lives in every possible capacity. She attended
every band tournament and concert, baseball, soccer and softball games, ice
skating competition, boy scout event, piano recital, Halloweens, special school
events and ceremonies, volunteered for their various schools, and filled in
whenever we were unable to attend.
Everyone knew her and called her, Memere. She simply was part of every facet of their lives. I know I speak for each and every one of her
grandchildren, that she was and will always remain one of the most influential
people in their lives.
One thing I must
address is how funny she was. I believe
we all can attest to the fact that she truly was hilarious, but didn't know
it! Her "Memerisms" have
become famous in our family. We will
forever keep her spirit alive with her amazing joy for life, and innocent and
loving manner. I used to love to kid her
about her beautiful accent. She would
always have the same comeback line...(Insert me doing a French accent) "Veronique,
I don't know what you are talking about!
I don't have an accent! You are
crazy!" ;-)
I last saw my Mother
this past November. Thankfully, she
still had moments of being coherent. I
shall forever cherish those last days I shared with her. One in particular will remain in my heart
forever. She was at the rehabilitation
center. It was a glorious day. We got her in the wheelchair and I brought
her outside as she so enjoyed the sunshine.
After a few moments, she looked at me and said, "I want to sing a
song." I knew exactly what song she
was thinking of as it was her favorite, and I heard her sing it with my Dad so
many, many times. She quickly began...
“Quand il me prend dans
ses bras
Il me parle tout bas,
Je vois la vie en rose.”
I joined her, and we
sang the entire song together. No tears
were shed. She did not miss a beat or
lyric. It was just beautiful. When we finished, she looked at me with a
very puzzled expression and said, "Veronique, how do you know that
song?" I don't know, Maman, I don't
know. :-)
We all know that she
was an angel among us. We must cherish
her memory and know that she is now the most beautiful angel watching over
us. I know I will. Rest in Peace, Maman. I will forever strive to be more like you,
and carry your spirit within me. I love
you.
