[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.
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