This is a space for friends and family close to Elizabeth to share thoughts, memories, poems, and words of love for a wonderful friend, partner, and daughter.
I will remember Elizabeth as a caring, fun-loving, courageous person. Her thesis defense was one of the first I attended, and a model for my understanding of what a defence could be. Last summer we were at a conference in Newfoundland together, and of the group attending the conference we were the two to stay and go camping. The day we were to start the camping trip, it was hailing as we left Cornerbrok; our morning hike featured horizontal driving rain and soaked-cold jeans. I think both of us were questioning our decision to go camping in what seemed like unseasonably cold weather, but we both stuck with it - and found a beautiful 'Green Garden' campground, an oasis of sunshine and perfect views. That's how I'll remember Elizabeth - full of life and enthusiasm, prepared for anything, about to embark on a solo bike trip. In the last week I've come to realise how many good people I know were connected to Elizabeth. My professional and personal life has and continues to be influenced by Elizabeth in ways she'll never know. Now that she's gone, I remain an admirer of Elizabeth - in her adventuring spirit, her academic work, her ability to bring people together. I am heartbroken, confused, and overwhelmed by the reality of her loss. with love to Elizabeth and those who love her, Mali
Well Elizabeth certainly enjoyed a good folk festival and the Vancouver Folk Festival was one of them. We got to enjoy a few of together and it was great. We'd get the early zipping along 10th on the bikes, especially on the Saturday and walk - never run;) to get a good spot to put down a tarp for the evening. The day was spent roaming between stages and taking in the sights, sounds and smells...there was always sharing of food. I had made some banana breads - affectionately know as "loaf" and if that was gone there was always brownie ends to go around from the volunteer kitchen. And chickpea stew. Andrew and Erika were always there, Mike and Nora and an assortment of others...
The venue was amazing - in the city, but mountains and ocean met. The ruggedness, the beauty all together with some amazing sunsets. The folk festival is community; it is Elizabeth.
Now the music. I was introduced to different bands by her and I introduced some to her. If you close you eyes you can easily imagine Elizabeth especially in the first song. Groups of people coming by Fraser Street or perhaps going to UBC Farm for a breakfast.
I still really can't believe you're gone. I'll always remember you as adventurous, kind, and thoughtful. Giving. So helpful. Thank you.
Old Man Leudecke: Joy of Cooking https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6aN9ifQVSrI
Old Man Leudecke: Big Group Breakfast https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r1bwWHwhpaM
The sun left on Sunday It’s been raining since then
I sent you a note at noon Trying to say that the conference of hope was coming to town You had left in the morning and never read the note
They said you left this niche to an open range But I saw you deliberately flying off the cliffs
They said Elizabeth was very sad But I heard you smiling and you keep on smiling
They said she was worried about environmental crisis But I know you were cheerfully counting the trees
They said Elizabeth lost her refuge after the ecologist’s speech But I saw you opening a happy umbrella under the spring blooms, and you walked far up the road
They said it was food pollution that bothered you the most But I know you would live on a few avocados and bread, your favorite
They said you felt blue and lonely in April But I read your thesis two pages of thanks to friends last green April
They said it was the Passion Sunday But I guess you knew it was Palm Sunday
They said it was the week of Easter But I thought you were thinking of last supper
They were painting eggs while chewing chocolate rabbits But you were drawing a cross on ocean waves while paddling cedar canoes
They were happily celebrating the bright week But I guess you were mourning for the Christ as you did for the little Indigenous girl
They announced your name proudly as the number added to the graduate list But you stepped along the river with modesty
They expected you to trace the firm pavement But you followed the slippery footsteps of rain
They shouted the directions into the gate of the hall of fames But you ran to the back-garden to listen to the butterfly’s whisper
They wanted you to hug the owl totem But you were carving hummingbirds with Indigenous friends
And your journey continues With your deep heart and your search for truth My dear Elizabeth…
I will remember Elizabeth as a caring, fun-loving, courageous person. Her thesis defense was one of the first I attended, and a model for my understanding of what a defence could be. Last summer we were at a conference in Newfoundland together, and of the group attending the conference we were the two to stay and go camping. The day we were to start the camping trip, it was hailing as we left Cornerbrok; our morning hike featured horizontal driving rain and soaked-cold jeans. I think both of us were questioning our decision to go camping in what seemed like unseasonably cold weather, but we both stuck with it - and found a beautiful 'Green Garden' campground, an oasis of sunshine and perfect views. That's how I'll remember Elizabeth - full of life and enthusiasm, prepared for anything, about to embark on a solo bike trip.
ReplyDeleteIn the last week I've come to realise how many good people I know were connected to Elizabeth. My professional and personal life has and continues to be influenced by Elizabeth in ways she'll never know. Now that she's gone, I remain an admirer of Elizabeth - in her adventuring spirit, her academic work, her ability to bring people together. I am heartbroken, confused, and overwhelmed by the reality of her loss.
with love to Elizabeth and those who love her,
Mali
Well Elizabeth certainly enjoyed a good folk festival and the Vancouver Folk Festival was one of them. We got to enjoy a few of together and it was great. We'd get the early zipping along 10th on the bikes, especially on the Saturday and walk - never run;) to get a good spot to put down a tarp for the evening. The day was spent roaming between stages and taking in the sights, sounds and smells...there was always sharing of food. I had made some banana breads - affectionately know as "loaf" and if that was gone there was always brownie ends to go around from the volunteer kitchen. And chickpea stew. Andrew and Erika were always there, Mike and Nora and an assortment of others...
ReplyDeleteThe venue was amazing - in the city, but mountains and ocean met. The ruggedness, the beauty all together with some amazing sunsets. The folk festival is community; it is Elizabeth.
Now the music. I was introduced to different bands by her and I introduced some to her. If you close you eyes you can easily imagine Elizabeth especially in the first song. Groups of people coming by Fraser Street or perhaps going to UBC Farm for a breakfast.
I still really can't believe you're gone. I'll always remember you as adventurous, kind, and thoughtful. Giving. So helpful. Thank you.
Old Man Leudecke: Joy of Cooking
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6aN9ifQVSrI
Old Man Leudecke: Big Group Breakfast
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r1bwWHwhpaM
Buck 65: Food
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JshNOVHWfuc
Keith
My dear Elizabeth
ReplyDeleteMy dear friend
The sun left on Sunday
It’s been raining since then
I sent you a note at noon
Trying to say that the conference of hope was coming to town
You had left in the morning and never read the note
They said you left this niche to an open range
But I saw you deliberately flying off the cliffs
They said Elizabeth was very sad
But I heard you smiling and you keep on smiling
They said she was worried about environmental crisis
But I know you were cheerfully counting the trees
They said Elizabeth lost her refuge after the ecologist’s speech
But I saw you opening a happy umbrella under the spring blooms, and you walked far up the road
They said it was food pollution that bothered you the most
But I know you would live on a few avocados and bread, your favorite
They said you felt blue and lonely in April
But I read your thesis two pages of thanks to friends last green April
They said it was the Passion Sunday
But I guess you knew it was Palm Sunday
They said it was the week of Easter
But I thought you were thinking of last supper
They were painting eggs while chewing chocolate rabbits
But you were drawing a cross on ocean waves while paddling cedar canoes
They were happily celebrating the bright week
But I guess you were mourning for the Christ as you did for the little Indigenous girl
They announced your name proudly as the number added to the graduate list
But you stepped along the river with modesty
They expected you to trace the firm pavement
But you followed the slippery footsteps of rain
They shouted the directions into the gate of the hall of fames
But you ran to the back-garden to listen to the butterfly’s whisper
They wanted you to hug the owl totem
But you were carving hummingbirds with Indigenous friends
And your journey continues
With your deep heart and your search for truth
My dear Elizabeth…