Helen L.(Laconte) Ley

A Eulogy for Helen L. (LaConte) Ley

Mom lived her faith consciously, daily, and in all she did.
She gave her full energy to each day of her life, from being married to my father, Mike, for nearly 33 years, to working on a difficult vegetable farm with my father in their younger days, while raising two children. She worked serving food in local schools and in a local restaurant in her middle years when they moved to Wheat Ridge from the farm in Welby, CO. She buried my father in 1973 when she was only 52 years of age.

She was a friend to anyone needing help; she was the favorite human of all her pet dogs and also all the dogs in the neighborhood. She was a confidant and a counselor to her children, and a loyal companion. She loved the great outdoors and all of nature, and animals loved and felt comfortable with her. Through the years, Mom spent many hours fishing, and she loved to work in her yard and garden. She delighted in watching the birds, especially the finches and sparrows that came to her bird feeder. She talked, once, about how she often wondered what it would be like to be a sparrow. Watching them gave her a great deal of pleasure in her later years.

Mom was a woman of peace, always wanting everyone to get along with each other, regardless of their differences or past hurts. She hoped and prayed for peace throughout the world, believing in the equality and the dignity of all. Mom shared my respect and love of the Native American culture and beliefs; she spent many hours with me in my husband's and my workshop as I fashioned a variety of Native American Indian art pieces.

She encouraged the leadership of women both in politics and religious traditions. Her heart was truly ecumenical and non-judgmental, willing to forgive others' weaknesses and also encouraging others to forgive.

Some of the special memories of Mom were unique to the variety of those who shared her life: a walk home from school with peanut butter and banana sandwiches waiting to be eaten at Grandma's house; a very luscious strawberry patch and the jelly that came from it; a cookie jar that was always full and easily reachable by even the smallest child; the ever-present coffee cup; her generosity in listening to the concerns and cares of her children, no matter what time of night it happened to be; the fun filled card games played anytime of the day someone was available; fishing in the rain with the thunder and the lightening, waiting for "that one more fish".

Mom loved to sing and absolutely loved to dance and she was good at both, offering to teach anyone who wanted to learn. She knew how to ball room dance from the time she was a child. A couple of years after my father died she decided to take up square dancing. Then God blessed her with another marriage to Gerald whom she met while square dancing. She spent another 37 years united with him in that marriage, caring for him most of those years and loving him for all of those years in her own special way.

Mom and Gerald enjoyed many of their years together on the dance floor. She loved the good old time music of Lawrence Welk and identified with him in an unusual way: Her nickname was Bubbles!

She was definitely a person of dignity; she was always conscious of proper behavior in every situation. But beneath that dignity was a sense of humor and a sense of enjoying the simple things of life.

I once gave her a birthday card that reminded me of her.
The outside of it read as follows:

"The little cruise ship was crowded with people, many of them retired, all of them off for a few days of pleasure. Ahead of me in the carpeted passageway was a tiny woman in brown polyester slacks, her shoulders hunched, her white hair permed in a short curly style.
From the ship's intercom came a familiar tune –
"Begin the Beguine" by Artie Shaw.

And suddenly a wonderful thing happened! The woman, unaware that anyone was behind her, began to shimmy and shake. She snapped her fingers. She swiveled her hips, she did a quick and graceful Lindy step – back, shuffle, slide.

Then, as she reached the door to the dining room, she paused, assembled her dignity and stepped soberly through the door…
The inside of the card read: "Never miss the chance to dance."

Death may actually be the ultimate door to life,
enabling us to be conscious of the ongoing creation of God,
the ongoing revelation of God and of the personal invitation, from Jesus, to live our lives to the fullest as he summons us to 'come follow me'.
At age 92, one could say that Mom did live a very full and
beautiful life.

Now, having taken her last breath before her walk into eternal life, she has entered a new fullness of the life that we, ourselves, continue to journey towards.
Ringing in our hearts forever,
Mom's message truly may be:
"Never miss the chance to dance".