Even though the actual memorial was scheduled for Saturday afternoon and evening, it was open house at Jean's farm for much of the weekend.



Clive and the Rices had said that food would be served at Jeans from 6PM onward. Due to the urgent need for coffee consumption, we didn't get there until closer to 6:30. Jean's farmhouse is lovely, and the setting is even lovelier. While the "bones" of the house are old, Jean has done extensive renovations. Thus the kitchen has all sorts of modern appliances and work spaces as well as a wood stove. There are open fields all around, and hills, and a stream. It's easy to see why Madeleine loved the farm; anybody would.

When we arrived, substantial amounts of food were laid out on the kitchen island, most notably a large turkey. And Luce was in front of the grill, working her magic on an array of cut up vegetables. Jean had made a lovely tossed salad, with greens from her garden. A tray of hamburgers was waiting for the grill. But it started to rain, so grilling the hamburgers required a certain amount of coordination. Luce worked the grill, while Clive held an umbrella for her. The rest of us drank wine; well, the Rice kids drank juice.

Eventually we sat down to eat in the farmhouse dining room. Jean had hung on one wall of the dining room an array of pictures of Madeleine from various stages of her life. None of the pictures were familiar from the memorial. (Paul has photos of most of these in his photo gallery.) So there was a fair amount of conversation about the pictures. The other topic of conversation was when various other folks would arrive, as Jean had a detailed list on her refrigerator. I don't remember whether iayork and his family arrived before we sat down to eat, but I do remember Ian's muttering about how long it took to get to the farm from Worcester (10 hours, if anybody cares!). As the meal ended, we started wondering what had happened to eeminy and her passengers. Surely they would have been on the road by 10:30 AM or so, even with rest and food stops, they should have arrived by 8. They finally pulled in around 11; what had happened to them was Montréal, in particular road construction and detours in Montréal. They'd been planning on camping out, but given the hour and the rain, they slept inside. Also arriving that evening were Larry and Marla, friends of Madeleine's from Philadelphia who have a cottage in rural Ontario.

The next morning, we were to return to the farm for breakfast and to get ready for the actual memorial. Of course, we had to have coffee first, in order to get moving properly. So, by the time we got to the farmhouse, I was fairly desperate for protein, so desperate that I grabbed some eggs from the fridge and scrambled them, without waiting to find that Jean had thoughtfully put the leftovers from a delicious omelet in the oven to keep warm. There were also muffins and pastries of various sorts, and plenty of coffee.

As soon as we had eaten, Jean put us all to work, as this was a participatory memorial, and she had lists, oh, she had lists. There was a little Madeleine and EtQ shrine in one of the upstairs rooms, and the candles and flowers there needed to be refreshed. Stones had to be collected for the inukshuk, and a deep hole needed to be dug (without damaging the adjacent wild rose and cranberry bush). Chairs had to be arranged in a circle under the canopy. A white table cloth needed to be pressed. A bonfire needed to be laid (but not yet lit). Cars needed to be moved to the designated parking area, to be out of the way. And more flowers needed to be picked, lots more flowers. Tents were put up in the designated camping location. Fortunately, the weather had broken. Instead of the rain of the previous day, we were blessed with clear skies and gentle breezes.

As we worked, more folks arrived. willwheels pulled up in his pickup truck. At one point, we got a phone call from Canadian Immigration at the Ottawa airport, checking out a suspicious story told by a suspicious-looking character about meeting a guy named Paul by a window in order to get to a memorial service somewhere in Québec, he wasn't sure where. Luce reassured the caller that Stephan was perfectly legit and that we were expecting him. About two hours later, Stephan and Paul pulled up, and Stephan distributed the spices he had brought for me and Jean (which had nothing to do with his Immigration episode!). Some folks that Madeleine had known in Ottawa showed up also, as did JoAnne and Phil. Sometime in among all the work and arrivals, we nibbled on leftover cheese and turkey for lunch.

A little after 2, we all took seats in the circle under the canopy. Some folks chatted quietly, and others contemplated. Shortly thereafter, Jean and Luce came down, carrying the urn with Madeleine's ashes and the box with EtQ's ashes, along with EtQ's leash. These were laid on the white tablecloth in the center of the circle. Jean welcomed us. Then for about half an hour, people took turns reminiscing about Madeleine. There were stories, and there was silence. And a list of names was read off; the list consisted of friends of Madeleine's who cared deeply about her. It was a lightly corrected list that Elizabeth had read to Madeleine over the phone a day or so before her death.

After that we walked over to the tree where we'd dug the hole, and the urn and box were gently laid in the hole and linked by the leash. A bouquet of flowers was passed around and we each tossed a flower into the hole. Then we took turns spading soil into the hole, and finally the sod was replaced. Charles said a few appropriate non-denominational words, then Larry and I stumbled through the Kaddish, from memory; Madeleine would no doubt have been amused that we couldn't remember all the words!

Then we split into two groups. Jean had arranged for a yoga teacher/healer to lead some exercises, so some folks went back to the canopy for that. The rest of us sat on the porch and chatted or watched the children play. Nancy made a wreath for the inukshuk, and some of the children added flowers to the wreath. After a bit, we reconvened near the canopy, and Will and Charles dug another hole, so we could plant a tree, a lovely amur maple. Once the hole was dug and the tree placed in it, we took turns throwing handfuls of soil into the hole. Then we set it to be watered, and went back to chatting.

At some point, the caterers had arrived and set up a grill for roast lamb. Delicious appetizers were set out. There were cheeses, patés, bean salad and probably some other stuff I can't remember.

Finally, it was time for the feast. eeminy sang Dona nobis pacem, as a call to table, and her voice really did echo off of the distant hills. Then we dug in! Both the lamb and the chicken were delicious. They had been cut up and given exquisite sauces, probably so the meat wouldn't dry up on the chafing dishes. No matter. I had thirds! The desserts looked equally good, but all I had was a meringue and a cookie; the rest were too carby for me.

As it got dark, the bonfire was lit. Some folks sat or stood around the fire singing. The rest of us stayed at the table talking. Once the singing died down, and it got chilly, we headed for the fire as well. Marshmallows mysteriously appeared, and Nancy (I think) found appropriately long sticks for roasting them. Since this was out in the country, there was very little ambient light, and the stars were glorious. All sorts of constellations were clearly visible, and the Milky Way was quite evident.

As the evening wound down, some folks had to leave. Those of us staying in the lodge got back there shortly before midnight. And, given our early morning need for coffee and to settle up with the lodge, some more had left by the time we got back to the farm. We had breakfast, said some goodbyes, rehashed the memorial, said some more goodbyes, rehashed some more, had turkey sandwiches, and rehashed some more.

Finally, a little before noon, Stephan and I departed, en route for Cornwall. As it was another glorious day, we took the Quyon ferry and stopped along the St Lawrence to take pictures. Given that this was near the bridge to Ogdensburg, it's probably a good thing that we were taking our pictures on the Canadian side of the river. We finally got to the park in Cornwall where Stephan was supposed to meet his father an hour after Stephan had told his father we would be there, which was half an hour after Stephan actually expected we'd be there, and fifteen minutes after his father actually got there!

My pictures from the memorial are here.