Miss B Hav'n
08-30-2007, 11:09 PM
This was in our local paper today:
Obituary didn't do justice to Elizabeth Love's life
Justin Helfrich
Courier Staff Writer
The obituary notice sent to the newspaper seemed incomplete: "Date of Birth: Aug. 30, 1932. Place of Birth: Unknown. Parents: Unknown, Survived by: Unknown. Preceded in Death by: Unknown."
All that is known about Elizabeth A. Love is that she was born Aug. 30, 1932, and that she died Saturday at Hanover Nursing Center at the age of 74. Almost everything that happened between those two dates in her life is a mystery.
"We usually have one like this once a year," Rodney Nay, co-owner of Morgan & Nay Funeral Centre, said the day of her funeral. "But usually we can find at least some information about them. You want to have at least something you can put on the death certificate."
Even the Social Security office couldn't help Nay in his search for information about Elizabeth.
"We've just hit brick wall after brick wall," he said. He picks up the phone and dials Debbie Dean's number. She was Love's caretaker before she went to Hanover Nursing Center, but there was no answer.
•
At 10 a.m. a funeral home employee waits at the door to the parking lot. His fingers tap against the brass bar and he looks out through the frosted glass of the door into the back lot. Nicely-dressed people walk into the funeral home. For a moment, I think they're Elizabeth's friends or relatives, but they smile at me sitting there and say, "How are you?" then disappear into soft-closing doors; employees. Wintergreen mints, each enclosed in cellophane, wait in a glass dish for visitors. Over the intercom, an anonymous studio musician shreds the ending of Andrew Lloyd Weber's "Music of the Night" on the piano.
•
Eventually, several of Love's former nurses and caretakers come in to pay their respects. By 11 we're headed to Springdale Cemetery; the procession, small. The grass, green, but a little dry from all the hot weather. Robert Leach serves as chaplain at the funeral. He begins to speak about Elizabeth and soon reminds himself of a passage from the Bible (as preachers are wont to do). What he says, though, is moving.
"You're born without anything and you leave without anything. What happens between is what we consider important," Leach said. "You and I don't know what's involved in those years. But God does."
Leach reads the 23rd Psalm to close the ceremony, his left hand holding the Bible, his right hand on the casket.
•
As we leave the cemetery, I ask one of her nurses to tell me what Elizabeth was like. She told me that she lived at Hanover Nursing Center since 2000.
"She was very complimentary to the staff. She was very upbeat," one said. "She loved bingo. She liked junk food, clothes, and jewelry. ... She always took very good care of herself. She was always dressed to the nines."
I asked them if Elizabeth had ever spoken to them about her past.
"She never did," said Martha Robbins, who is the administrator at Hanover Nursing Center. "She didn't remember or just chose not to talk about it. She focused more on the day at hand. Or the next day."
•
Debbie Dean told me that Elizabeth was born and lived in Corydon. According to Dean, Elizabeth was a "change-of-life baby," meaning her mother probably was in her mid to late 40s when she gave birth to her. She had three sisters, the youngest being 16 years older. No idea what her parents died of or when they died. By the time that Love came to Dean, her sisters had also died. Dean said that Love had some nephews, but none of them were close to her.
"She liked to get up every morning and have a Danish for breakfast. That's how I know that she lived in the city. Country people eat real food. City people eat Danishes," Debbie said she joked with Elizabeth.
Dean said that when authorities transferred her from her home in Corydon, they found that Elizabeth had not left the house in nine years.
"She was funny about going out in public. Once I took her to Wal-Mart. She'd never been there, and it was like taking a kid into a candy store.
"I took her up to Commiskey and that restaurant up there. I didn't tell her where we were going, and she didn't ask. When we got there she said, "I think you've made a mistake, Debbie. This isn't the doctor's office.' I said, 'We're not going to the doctor. We're going to go in and have some pie.'"
Elizabeth loved Diet Pepsi and watching old black-and-white movies.
"(There was) No favorite movie, she liked them all," Dean said.
Dean said that Love worked as a beautician before she knew her. She liked to wear what Dean referred to as "Cinderella Shoes" : pink with an open 2 1/2-inch heel. She wore a size 5 1/2.
"It was just so cute," Dean said.
Love's second chemotherapy took place 9 1/2 years ago.
"She always had her hair up in a bun. When it started falling out, it was a big deal to her."
According to Dean, Love became even more withdrawn after the chemotherapy. She lost the hair that she cared so much about and even lost interest in speaking.
"We told the doctor that we just didn't want to do this to her."
Eventually Dean referred Elizabeth to Hanover Nursing Center, where Dean was a nurse.
In her last week, Debbie brought Elizabeth her favorite food: a cheeseburger and fries from McDonald's, along with a milkshake. But Elizabeth didn't have an appetite.
"She remembered who I was and the names of all of my kids," Dean said.
She said that Love had a much better life at Hanover Nursing Center.
"The medication stabilized her schizophrenia, and she did much better. She became just a social butterfly there."
She became involved in social activities and bingo. She even began to date.
"There was a man," Dean said. "At 2 p.m. they would meet and watch a movie and eat popcorn."
•
"You just could not say a bad word about her," Dean said. "She was just such a positive person."
The picture is just so sad - it shows her graveside service and there are just four people there- all nurses from the nursing home :sadeyes
Obituary didn't do justice to Elizabeth Love's life
Justin Helfrich
Courier Staff Writer
The obituary notice sent to the newspaper seemed incomplete: "Date of Birth: Aug. 30, 1932. Place of Birth: Unknown. Parents: Unknown, Survived by: Unknown. Preceded in Death by: Unknown."
All that is known about Elizabeth A. Love is that she was born Aug. 30, 1932, and that she died Saturday at Hanover Nursing Center at the age of 74. Almost everything that happened between those two dates in her life is a mystery.
"We usually have one like this once a year," Rodney Nay, co-owner of Morgan & Nay Funeral Centre, said the day of her funeral. "But usually we can find at least some information about them. You want to have at least something you can put on the death certificate."
Even the Social Security office couldn't help Nay in his search for information about Elizabeth.
"We've just hit brick wall after brick wall," he said. He picks up the phone and dials Debbie Dean's number. She was Love's caretaker before she went to Hanover Nursing Center, but there was no answer.
•
At 10 a.m. a funeral home employee waits at the door to the parking lot. His fingers tap against the brass bar and he looks out through the frosted glass of the door into the back lot. Nicely-dressed people walk into the funeral home. For a moment, I think they're Elizabeth's friends or relatives, but they smile at me sitting there and say, "How are you?" then disappear into soft-closing doors; employees. Wintergreen mints, each enclosed in cellophane, wait in a glass dish for visitors. Over the intercom, an anonymous studio musician shreds the ending of Andrew Lloyd Weber's "Music of the Night" on the piano.
•
Eventually, several of Love's former nurses and caretakers come in to pay their respects. By 11 we're headed to Springdale Cemetery; the procession, small. The grass, green, but a little dry from all the hot weather. Robert Leach serves as chaplain at the funeral. He begins to speak about Elizabeth and soon reminds himself of a passage from the Bible (as preachers are wont to do). What he says, though, is moving.
"You're born without anything and you leave without anything. What happens between is what we consider important," Leach said. "You and I don't know what's involved in those years. But God does."
Leach reads the 23rd Psalm to close the ceremony, his left hand holding the Bible, his right hand on the casket.
•
As we leave the cemetery, I ask one of her nurses to tell me what Elizabeth was like. She told me that she lived at Hanover Nursing Center since 2000.
"She was very complimentary to the staff. She was very upbeat," one said. "She loved bingo. She liked junk food, clothes, and jewelry. ... She always took very good care of herself. She was always dressed to the nines."
I asked them if Elizabeth had ever spoken to them about her past.
"She never did," said Martha Robbins, who is the administrator at Hanover Nursing Center. "She didn't remember or just chose not to talk about it. She focused more on the day at hand. Or the next day."
•
Debbie Dean told me that Elizabeth was born and lived in Corydon. According to Dean, Elizabeth was a "change-of-life baby," meaning her mother probably was in her mid to late 40s when she gave birth to her. She had three sisters, the youngest being 16 years older. No idea what her parents died of or when they died. By the time that Love came to Dean, her sisters had also died. Dean said that Love had some nephews, but none of them were close to her.
"She liked to get up every morning and have a Danish for breakfast. That's how I know that she lived in the city. Country people eat real food. City people eat Danishes," Debbie said she joked with Elizabeth.
Dean said that when authorities transferred her from her home in Corydon, they found that Elizabeth had not left the house in nine years.
"She was funny about going out in public. Once I took her to Wal-Mart. She'd never been there, and it was like taking a kid into a candy store.
"I took her up to Commiskey and that restaurant up there. I didn't tell her where we were going, and she didn't ask. When we got there she said, "I think you've made a mistake, Debbie. This isn't the doctor's office.' I said, 'We're not going to the doctor. We're going to go in and have some pie.'"
Elizabeth loved Diet Pepsi and watching old black-and-white movies.
"(There was) No favorite movie, she liked them all," Dean said.
Dean said that Love worked as a beautician before she knew her. She liked to wear what Dean referred to as "Cinderella Shoes" : pink with an open 2 1/2-inch heel. She wore a size 5 1/2.
"It was just so cute," Dean said.
Love's second chemotherapy took place 9 1/2 years ago.
"She always had her hair up in a bun. When it started falling out, it was a big deal to her."
According to Dean, Love became even more withdrawn after the chemotherapy. She lost the hair that she cared so much about and even lost interest in speaking.
"We told the doctor that we just didn't want to do this to her."
Eventually Dean referred Elizabeth to Hanover Nursing Center, where Dean was a nurse.
In her last week, Debbie brought Elizabeth her favorite food: a cheeseburger and fries from McDonald's, along with a milkshake. But Elizabeth didn't have an appetite.
"She remembered who I was and the names of all of my kids," Dean said.
She said that Love had a much better life at Hanover Nursing Center.
"The medication stabilized her schizophrenia, and she did much better. She became just a social butterfly there."
She became involved in social activities and bingo. She even began to date.
"There was a man," Dean said. "At 2 p.m. they would meet and watch a movie and eat popcorn."
•
"You just could not say a bad word about her," Dean said. "She was just such a positive person."
The picture is just so sad - it shows her graveside service and there are just four people there- all nurses from the nursing home :sadeyes