[Congressional Record Volume 144, Number 26 (Thursday, March 12, 1998)]
[Senate]
[Page S1814]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                     IN MEMORY OF CECILE POMERLEAU

  Mr. LEAHY. February might be seen as a month when our family would 
end the customary mourning period following the death of Cecile 
Pomerleau.
  However, for our family this has been a time of remembering more than 
mourning, and that is the way she would have wanted it.
  Cecile was a beloved mother to my wife, Marcelle, and her brothers, 
Rene and Claude, a loving and loved grandmother to Kevin, Mark, and 
Alicia Leahy, and Mark and Paul Pomerleau, to the spouses of her 
grandchildren, to nephews and nieces, and adopted daughter Sister 
Consolata--and without a doubt, the best mother-in-law I could have.
  For Cecile, family, above all else, was her world. Even in her final 
illness, her ailments seemed to melt away when Marcelle was there to 
care for her or when she knew her sons were arriving to be with her, 
when Kevin and Christianna visited and brought her home, when Mark and 
Kristine sat with her as they planned their new life together. A very 
special visitor was her ``favorite'' and only granddaughter, Alicia. 
Trips from Chicago by Mark and Paul Pomerleau meant so much to her.
  I so greatly benefited from her love and our daily talks and visits--
and had in her the most loyal and accepting of any constituent! Even 
when I thought I did poorly in a Senate debate, she was there to tell 
me I really won.
  At her funeral, our son, Mark, talked of living with his grandmother 
while going to school. Here was a strong willed, young teenager living 
with a grandmother who was comfortable in a different language and 
different customs from his own.
  As he told us his story, with humor and love, we saw a grandmother 
wanting to move across generations to help her grandson--and a grandson 
meeting

[[Page S1812]]

her at the generational chasm to accept her love. When he walked past 
the casket bidding farewell in French to his grandmother, all of us, 
through our tears, knew the bond.
  Cecile nearly left us a decade earlier. The love, sacrifice and 
nursing skill of her daughter, brought her back to life and gave her 
those extra years of fulfillment.
  I have often said that Marcelle's vocation as a registered nurse is 
aided by a God-given gift of healing. And no place was it more evident 
than when caring for her mother--indeed as she became her mother's 
mother.
  Marcelle brought us the essence of her mother when she said the 
following in a memorial service for Cecile at the Goodwin House.
  I was struck by one part of the history of her mother who had a 
professorship in music at the age of 17 but was told, of course, 
because of that generation, and especially being a woman, she would 
have to wait a year before she was old enough to go out into the world. 
Even though she had demonstrated the talent, genius, and everything 
necessary to get the professorship, she would have to wait 1 more year.
  Knowing my mother-in-law, knowing her genius for music, I suspect 
that was a somewhat frustrating year and she probably watched the pages 
coming off the calendar.
  I ask unanimous consent Marcelle Leahy's comments be printed in the 
Record.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

                        A Tribute to Our Mother

       When I think of Mom, these words come to mind first: 
     Family, Faith, Music, Friends and French (Canadian). All of 
     these required loyalty and honesty, and then the strength she 
     had to follow her convictions and the promises she had made.
       As children my brothers Rene, Claude and I grew up in a 
     home where all of these things became almost as one. Mom set 
     high standards for herself as well as others.
       As a very young woman in Coaticook, Canada she earned her 
     professors degree in music when she was only 17. Even though 
     she was qualified to teach they wouldn't let her begin to 
     teach for a year when she would be that much older and more 
     mature.
       Music was also to be the thing that brought Mom and Dad 
     together. Dad sang a concert in Sherbrooke, Canada and didn't 
     have an accompanist, so Mom was asked to accompany him on the 
     piano which she agreed to do. When she walked up to him that 
     evening wearing a long red taffeta dress he burst into song 
     and serenaded her (and everyone within hearing distance) with 
     ``Lady Lady in Red I adore you.'' I believe they were married 
     within the year.
       Music was always a very large part of our lives. Mom taught 
     us all to play the piano as she did a countless number of 
     students over the next 70 years.
       Do you have any idea what it is like to have the piano 
     teacher monitoring your practice sessions? Her voice would 
     come out of the kitchen as she prepared dinner. ``Claude you 
     aren't counting! Rene why can't you remember the key? and 
     Marcelle I told you not to practice that until you did 10 
     minutes of the exercises!'' I would seek my revenge by 
     playing Chopsticks! which was absolutely forbidden as that 
     was never considered classical music. The memories are 
     endless with all the novenas, Masses, weddings and, yes, 
     funerals she played for. She used to like to count the black 
     dresses at weddings and the red hats at funerals back in the 
     days when these weren't considered proper. Then all the 
     concerts we went to and, at the recitals where we had to 
     participate, always a nightmare for this participant, and 
     Saturday afternoon with the metropolitan opera blaring from 
     the radio throughout the house.
       Some of my fondest memories are of the times we had all of 
     these things combined. Christmas was something else with 
     midnight Mass, Mom playing the organ, her two feet on the 
     pedals, one hand on the keys and the other in the air 
     directing the choir with a few head movements thrown in as 
     she sang as well. Dad would sing at least one solo and we 
     three kids would be singing in the choir too. For me this 
     was all great and exciting as it meant when it was all 
     over there would be our Reveillion at home.
       Of course it was the family, the choir who were all our 
     friends but then more friends came and the priests too. There 
     would be singing, laughing, gifts, and food. Mom was known 
     for her tourtiere, tartelette, fruit cake and nut goodies, to 
     mention only a few things. She would have been preparing for 
     weeks and what a feast it would be, our beds wouldn't see us 
     until daylight!
       There it was, Church, family, friends, music and French 
     Canadian heritage all wrapped into one glorious celebration.
       I really need to talk more about the French, as it was a 
     large part of our lives from both of our parents. Our names 
     are French as though no one noticed!
       Rene, Claude, Marcelle, they chose those for many reasons 
     but also because they don't change in the translation and we 
     were always going to go back and forth from French to 
     English. Mom never stopped thinking, speaking and counting in 
     French. She even preserved her accent all of these years.
       She also never stopped trying to change things ``to the way 
     we did it in the Province of Quebec.'' You can just imagine 
     how that caused some fireworks between a mother and a 
     daughter when Patrick and I were planning our wedding.
       Then it was the pronunciation of English words--why did 
     they (as in English speakers) have to do it that way? It just 
     didn't make sense. So, we had a phrase we liked to repeat 
     with her pronunciation. We're going to the Potomac eating a 
     banana from Panama.
       Then there was the issue of Thanksgiving ``Why can't the 
     Americans celebrate it the same day as Canada? '' Oh well I 
     guess that was never a matter of discussion when our two 
     countries were deep into negotiations.
       Mom taught my brothers and me many many things for which we 
     will always be grateful. I want to share with you one of the 
     things that she often said to me as I was growing up and she 
     taught me so well because she also lived her life this way. 
     ``Always treat people the way you would like to be treated 
     and you will never go wrong.'' Sounds easy and it isn't.
       She was generosity, gentleness, loyalty, honesty and 
     strength in all that she did, teaching us well with her words 
     and her actions. All of this was intertwined with her love 
     for her family, faith and music her adopted country, not to 
     mention her great pride for son-in-law Patrick, Le Senateur, 
     and her grandchildren.
       We have a lot to celebrate when our sadness diminishes and 
     we can dwell on her beautiful life and her strength in dying. 
     Mom's health problems started in 1989. It's been a long long 
     road to arrive to this day. She never lost her patience, 
     always kept smiling, never neglected to express her 
     appreciation, saying goodbye to her last piano student only 
     about a year ago and always with rosary in her hand.
       Mom, your whole life was quite a concert. It was harmony 
     with your music, your family and friends and your God. We 
     will continue to sing your praises. Au revoir.

  Mr. LEAHY. Cecile's son, Rene, spoke for himself and his children, 
Mark and Paul Pomerleau, and Mark's wife, Alison Paul. I ask unanimous 
consent that Rene's comments be printed in the Record.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

                       Remarks by Rene Pomerleau

       Mon's death was blessed relief. The going was long and hard 
     and she wanted to go. And it was hard for Marcelle and Pat, 
     who were there and supported her in her need. And it was hard 
     for those of us who loved her and the care givers, and 
     couldn't be there to help.
       And it was the same way with Dad.
       But I'm going to miss her very much. I miss them both very 
     much.
       Mom was a friend. Both Mom and Dad were friends. More and 
     more I realize what a good fortune that was, one that a 
     surprising number of the people I know, and know of, can't 
     claim.
       I think I speak for Claude and Marcelle as well when I say 
     that we've always thought of our parents as friends. Maybe we 
     didn't use that word, always, but when I analyze my feelings 
     and our actions, that's the word that describes it.
       In Richmond, the home I remember best--because I left home 
     for school when we lived there, and Vermont was more a place 
     to visit--I don't remember an environment of intrigue and 
     competition and distrust. I remember friends--the Carles; the 
     neighbors on the right, Mr. and Mrs. Smallwood; Mrs. Reynolds 
     on the left; Hay, who cleaned house for us once a week; 
     Father Hodges, Father Perreira.
       We were surrounded with their friends. They chose their 
     friends carefully, and they tried to teach us to do the same.
       Our parents left us a legacy of friendship. If we've made 
     great friendships in life, if we're surrounded today by good 
     friends, if we think of our relatives as friends first, it's 
     thanks to them--and to people like them.
       Mom may be joining Dad in a better place, but the place 
     they've left is the better for their having been here.
       And we're going to miss them.

  Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, her rich Roman Catholic faith was enhanced 
by her son, Claude, a priest with the Holy Cross Order. Claude visited 
his mother, both as son and as a pastoral friend. Together they talked 
as only they could, of the day when she would leave us. After her death 
we were reminded of her faith and love of family when we found a note 
she had written to herself to ask Claude if she could still pray for 
all of us after she went on to the next life.
  Claude said her funeral Mass, and spoke with love, humor, and 
compassion. His words were such a comfort that I ask unanimous consent 
it be printed in the Record.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

[[Page S1813]]

                               [Greeting]

       May the God of all mercy and consolation be with you all.

                        [Sprinkling with water]

       In the waters of baptism Cecile died with Christ and rose 
     with Him into new life. May she now share with Him eternal 
     glory.

                            [Opening prayer]

       O God, source of all mercy and forgiveness, hear our prayer 
     for Cecile whom You have called to the fullness of life.
       Because she put her hope in you, may she be carried safely 
     home, to enjoy her eternal reward.
       We ask this through God, the source of all being, eternal 
     word, and Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever.

                   [Final commendation (after mass)]

       Trusting in God, we have prayed together for Cecile. And 
     now, we share a final prayer. There is sadness, but there is 
     also joy of knowing that one day we shall all gather with her 
     and sing to her accompaniment.
       We may disperse in sorrow, but the mercy of God will gather 
     us together again in the joy of the Kingdom.
       We pray for this to God, the source of all being, eternal 
     word, and Holy Spirit. God, forever and ever. Amen.

                           [Song of farewell]

                        [Prayer of commendation]

       Into Your hands, O God of mercy, we commend our sister 
     Cecile in the sure hope that together, with all who have died 
     in Christ she will rise with Him.
       Merciful Creator, turn toward us and listen to our prayers: 
     open the gates of paradise to your servant and help us who 
     remain to comfort one another with assurances of faith, until 
     we all meet in God's Kingdom, with great rejoicing.
       Amen.


                                 homily

   (To Gary Moreau, musician, with whom Cecile collaborated for many 
                                 years)

       Gary, I begin by telling you that Mom asked me to play my 
     clarinet with you at her funeral. When we talked about her 
     death and the funeral, Cecile considered cremation. But then, 
     she quickly realized that if I played my clarinet in front of 
     the urn with her ashes, I would look like an Indian snake 
     charmer trying to tame a cobra inside a basket. So, in order 
     to leave me that musical option, she decided to be buried in 
     a more conventional manner.
       Recalling Cecile's sense of humor, we are gathered here in 
     sorrow. Still, she has also left us a rich legacy, filled 
     with joy and gratitude. These two virtues were an important 
     part of her life.
       Our sorrow accompanies the joy. It is precisely that which 
     causes us sorrow that also becomes the fertile ground for our 
     gladness. In her memory, we all become close friends, giving 
     each other strength, and consolation, and expressing our 
     gratitude. Thanks to Cecile's death, we become angels to each 
     other.
       ``Nothing can make up for the absence of someone whom we 
     love, and it would be wrong to try to find a substitute; we 
     must simply hold out and see it through.
       ``That sounds very hard at first, but at the same time it 
     is a great consolation, for the gap, as long as it remains 
     unfilled, preserves the bonds between us, it is nonsense to 
     say that God fills the gap; God does not fill it, but on the 
     contrary, keeps it empty and so helps us to keep alive our 
     former communion with each other, even at the cost of 
     pain.''--Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
       With Bonhoeffer's words, we also recall our communion with 
     family and friends who give meaning to our present lives, 
     Philippe (Cecile's husband, my dad), Howard and Alba 
     (Patrick's parents), Ellen Pomerleau, Ida and Eli Bushnell, 
     Henri Nouwen, Cecile's sister and brothers, Don and Kay 
     McNeill, and Jean Paul Gaudette.
       ``Dying can become our greatest gift if we prepare 
     ourselves to die well.''--Rev. Henri J.M. Nouwen.
       I recall these recent words of Henri Nouwen. We don't all 
     have such a gift. Cecile had it in abundance. She not only 
     prepared herself, but she helped me, and all those who spent 
     time with her in these last years to appreciate this gift. 
     The preparation for death was consistent and definite, 
     religious and secular; sometimes she was subtle, sometimes 
     she was not. Even today, in this sacrament, she helps us to 
     understand her death, and appreciate her life.
       In a personal way, I thank you, Mom, for arranging this 
     particular day. The sun is shining through the cold and 
     bouncing off the snow. And, it may not be appropriate for 
     all, but you called me away from one of the busiest weekends 
     imaginable. And, everyone graciously agreed to replace me. 
     And they all said, of course, take the time off, all the time 
     that you need. So, for calling us all together, thanks Mom!
       In this spirit, I'd like to talk about the gift that Cecile 
     left us, the gift of preparing well for death, by turning 
     life and its ending into a gift. This became especially 
     obvious during her sickness, as she learned to cope with her 
     physical limitations. This was not easy, and it challenged 
     her, at times, a lot.
       This gift of preparing well for death can be seen in three 
     areas: In her family, in her music, and in her faith in God.

                             In her family

       When Cecile became sick, some 6 years ago, she was 
     gradually disabled, becoming increasingly dependent on her 
     daughter and son-in-law, Marcelle and Patrick. She had to 
     adjust, and so did they. It was difficult, it went against 
     her independent nature. But, she did it by keeping in touch 
     with all the family and many of her friends.
       She continued to be a communications center for the family, 
     linking cities by letters and phone calls. Washington, DC, 
     Burlington, Montreal, Chicago, Portland, Mexico, Chile, 
     France. Friends that she had made during her visits to 
     Europe, to Mexico and to Chile from 1986 to 1989. Her dear 
     friends in Santiago, especially Walter and Bernardita, Juan-
     Pablo, Berni and Teresita, and the Navarretes in Mexico City, 
     especially Tomas and all the brothers and sisters; Ellen 
     Marie and all the children of Tony and Rita.
       As sickness closed in, Cecile's world should have too. 
     Instead she continued to force open the door. Friends in 
     Chile, politics and family in Canada, and the past became 
     present. Stories about her childhood and grandparents and 
     aunts and uncles were repeated and some stories were told 
     with much laughter and others with tears. Joseph Robert, an 
     uncle of her great grandmother's was hung by the British in 
     the Riel Rebellion in 1837. She translated most of the book 
     on this rebellion by Jules Verne's (Famille sans nom). Last 
     year, she also finished translating into English the history 
     of the Bouchards as told by her father, Arthur Bouchard.
       As for her new living arrangement in Goodwin House, her 
     circle of friends was large--all the better to publicize the 
     talents and exploits of her children. And, of course, to 
     campaign for her favorite ``Senateur Leahy'', and the 
     Democratic Party. I'm not aware that she made any illegal 
     contributions to the campaign, but other dubious events were 
     noticed. To grumpy Republicans, especially those who treated 
     their wives with less than respect at games of bridge or 
     during physical therapy, she was known to have run over their 
     toes with her walker. Patrick and I took to calling her the 
     Dennis Rodman of the walker set.

                              In her music

       Soon after receiving her music diploma at 17, she began 
     teaching, and remained a music teacher to the end. During 
     that long and colorful career, she played the organ, the 
     piano, she sang, she directed choirs at church, at school and 
     for anyone who asked. She was president of the Athena Club, 
     representative in Vt. of the National Association of Piano 
     Teachers, a judge for piano auditions throughout the 
     Northeast, and travelled to workshops at Priinceton and yale. 
     Music was a remarkable area of gifts and generosity for 
     Cecile.
       In Chile, she gave lessons to students and friends; at 
     Goodwin House, she continued to teach piano to the children 
     of her nurses and maids who came from Central America, 
     Africa, Vietnam. She sang in the house choir, and went to 
     operas and concerts until last year. For Cecile, music was 
     her first language, her contact with the divine, her 
     discipline for ecstasy. Beethoven was the expression of the 
     divine that she most enjoyed. She transcribed a Beethoven 
     sonata for piano and clarinet, and we played it at every 
     opportunity. While her own appreciation was specific (some 
     might even say narrow--I never heard her play jazz, much less 
     ``grunge,'' nor put ``rap'' to music), she still enjoyed 
     anyone who was sincere and knew music. She once played for a 
     wedding with a young rock guitarist. She improvished while he 
     played. Afterwards, she told us that she was a bit surprised 
     and annoyed by his lack of appreciation, because he had 
     commented to her: ``Lady, you play a mean organ.'' Marcelle 
     explained to her that this was really meant as a compliement.

                          In her faith in God

       The center of Cecile's spirituality consisted in making her 
     family and friends present through her rosary. When I said 
     mass in her room, she would insert a litany of intentions 
     that included all persons from the present to the 19th 
     century! But the rosary was her constant companion and her 
     favorite way of making her loved ones present to her, and 
     available to God. God was not a complicated and unknowable 
     source of transcending bliss and light, nor was God a 
     complicated web of metaphysical abstractions. God was someone 
     you spoke to, to whom you gave thanks for family and the gift 
     of friends, two-legged or four-legged ones.
       After listening to the news and weather, she located every 
     religious program on the tube, including ``that Mother 
     Angelica'' (when she could remember her name). ``That nun'' 
     she would say ``is racist, sexist and narrowminded. And, 
     those priests who say mass often don't know how to preach. 
     So, I turn down the volume and say my rosary for them.'' The 
     rosary, again. It was her instrument of theological reform 
     and renewal!
       And she talked a lot about life after death, with longing 
     (especially last year), but also with curiosity. She often 
     asked me what heaven might be like after death. ``What new 
     things are they saying about death,'' she would ask. She 
     would laugh (at my sputtering), and then we'd have a cup of 
     tea.

                               Conclusion

       There's much to include in these three categories, but it 
     is clear that for her, they were sacramental categories, that 
     she came in contact with God in family, in music, and in 
     prayer, especially with the prayer of her rosary.
       So, today, we too stay in communion with her, and with God, 
     through the sacrament we

[[Page S1814]]

     are celebrating. Even though it is the middle of winter, cold 
     with snow (not weather that Cecile appreciated), we bless, 
     and offer up this bread and wine in memory of God's love and 
     compassion for us, and in memory of Cecile's presence, that 
     of death as well as life eternal.
       We celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus, knowing 
     that this gives special meaning to all our family reunions 
     and human relationships. God's presence is everywhere, giving 
     meaning to the presence of Cecile's absence. ``The presence 
     of that absence is everywhere,'' in the words of Edna St. 
     Vincent Millay.
       We don't just use these humble gifts of bread and wine. 
     Rather we let them speak to us of joy and sorrow, of presence 
     and absence, of faithfulness and sacrifice. The Eucharist 
     reminds us that it is God's gift to us to be fruitful. It is 
     a human activity to be productive, a divine gift to be 
     fruitful. In this Eucharist/sacrament, we receive that gift 
     from God. For that gift, and for peace, we now give thanks.
       In the words of the Kaddish, ``May God who establishes 
     peace in the heavens, grant peace unto us and unto all 
     Israel, And say yes, Amen.''

  Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, Marcelle and I loved our parents and we 
were loved by them. During the past decade and a half, we have seen 
them all leave--Howard, Phil, Alba, and Cecile. Such good friends and 
such good parents are in our memories today.
  It is strange, but I still find myself stopping momentarily now and 
then as if to call each of them, perhaps to say thank you for all each 
gave, to tell them their love will live on in their children and their 
grandchildren, but I think they knew that. They knew how much their 
children loved them. They knew how much their grandchildren loved them. 
And at a time when it becomes almost a cliche to talk about family 
values, our parents gave such great family values to us. The love of 
all the children for them has been so strong, and the grandchildren, 
especially, were fortunate to have grandparents that they could know 
and love.
  We lost Cecile last February, but this February, a year later, her 
first great grandchild, Roan Seamus Nichols Leahy, joined the family. 
Knowing Cecile, she would consider this timing quite fitting, and her 
wonderful heart, if she were still alive, would expand to include him 
in her love with all the rest of us.
  I say au revoir, Maman.
  I suggest the absence of a quorum.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The clerk will call the roll.
  The legislative clerk proceeded to call the roll.
  Mr. DURBIN. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for 
the quorum call be rescinded.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
  Mr. DURBIN. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that I be 
allocated the time that has been assigned to Senator Dorgan as if in 
morning business.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
  Mr. DURBIN. Thank you.

                          ____________________