It still does not seem real. It has been almost two weeks since Grandma passed away. Even typing this now doesn't really help it sink in. The hole her absence has left is enormous. I miss so many special things about her.
I remember the smell of Grandma's house...usually something was cooking...bacon and onions cooked in butter, bread raising. Everything she cooked was basically magical. She could put out a gourmet meal in the matter of an hour without breaking a sweat. She never seemed stressed in the kitchen, unlike the way I can feel with company coming. Maybe it was just the sheer confidence of having done it so many times, but she made it look effortless. She made others feel right at home in her home. It was a gift.
I remember the way her hands looked...getting more gnarled with age, but always bedazzled with her beautiful jewelry...her diamonds, her aquamarine ring, and her blue topaz. These were the hands that sewed dozens of quilts for her family...the quilt that she made for me at my wedding and that I've slept with almost every night since she has been gone. I guess it's a way to still feel close to her...knowing that those hands made every stitch of that quilt for me. It was a gift.
I remember the sound of her voice. I've saved her voicemails left on my phone, so I can always remember what she sounds like. At the burial on the hill above St. Mary's Church, her sister Cathy was standing near me. A chorus of "How Great Thou Art" broke out, and I was startled because Aunt Cathy's singing voice sounded so much like hers. It made me feel like a piece of Grandma was with us. It was a gift.
I remember the countless ways Grandma has showed up for me over the years...all the recitals, concerts, horse shows, birthdays, sleepovers, girls weekends, vacations...so many of my memories on this earth have Grandma in them. They were a gift.
I've felt very numb over the past few weeks...going back and forth between feeling desperately sad and just in shock and disbelief. I expect over the next weeks, months, and years, it will start to feel more real. As traditions change and special dates pass without her, her absence will be felt deeply. The night before her funeral, Lucas and I made her Caesar Salad and chocolate chip cookies for our family meal. It made us feel connected to her and to one another. It was a gift.
Grandma, your life, your presence, and your love were a gift to me. Thank you. I love you. See you on the other side.
Eulogy of Edith Marie Weisenbeck
by Marcia Danzinger
as read on her funeral, September 29, 2020
Thank you all for being here with us to celebrate Mom’s life in the presence of God, and give her her final send off. We all feel your love and appreciate the kindness you’ve shown to us. Mom said many times during her sickest days, “We can do hard things.” She endured 51 chemo treatments and 35 radiation treatments. She wasn’t a complainer, nor did she ever want pity. She wanted to fulfill an intention she set when she was diagnosed; to learn to live with pancreatic cancer. She loved life too much to give in. But we aren’t here to dwell on her illness. We would rather focus on Mom’s wonderful qualities, and share some joy from her life.
Edith Marie Gasteyer Weisenbeck entered this world 85 years ago, and left us on her mother Louisa’s birthday, September 24. We always wondered how this golden haired baby got her name. As the story goes, Louisa decided on the name “Edith” after her favorite Longfellow Poem, “The Children’s Hour”, which spoke of Edith with Golden Hair. There were Five F’s that Mom lived for and was passionate about: Faith, Family, Friends, Food, and Fashion.
Mom’s faith was incredible right to the very end. She was such a wonderful example to all of us. She and Dad prayed the rosary frequently. If we made the mistake of calling around 8:30pm when they were praying with Sr. Angelica on TV, we’d be placed on hold until they finished. She and Dad were very devoted to the Blessed Virgin. Their cherished icon of the Blessed Virgin hangs in their bedroom. Even when Mom became unable to talk to us at the end, we could see her whispering the Hail Mary. Father Emmanuel was so good to her, and she felt so blessed to be anointed by him in her last days. Mom instilled honesty in her children, and one of the sayings she passed on from her own mother was, “There was never a lie so finely spun, that what it doesn’t come to the light of the sun.” We never got away with anything. On Sundays, we were bathed, hair in rollers, shoes polished, ears cleaned, and our
clothes were pressed for church. All 6 of us were expected to sit quietly in a row in the pew for the duration. AND WE DID. We knew it wasn’t optional. Mom wasn’t perfect though, and on one particular occasion in her later years, when Mom was at a weekday mass here at St. Mary’s, one of the grandchildren happened to call her. She picked up the phone in church, “Hello,” she said in a whisper, “I’m in church, and I didn’t want to miss your call.” That brings me to family….
Mom’s family meant everything to her. She tried her best not to miss a call and sometimes had two lines going at once. We were all her greatest pride and joy, and she told us that often,“You make me so proud.” Our birthdays were not complete without one of her home cooked meals. At Christmas she labored over the right gifts for everyone, so intentional in making each gift perfect. There were many purchases and returns made by Mom in the process of getting it right, but we all know she loved to shop, so it gave her joy. She even kept a “stash” of alternate gifts or different sizes in her closet, in case what she picked was not quite perfect. This past Christmas, along with the help of the scrapbook wizard in the family, she created a photo memory book for each of the 6 of us. When we received them, we laughed, we cried, and we were in awe of her will and desire to do this for us, as sick as she was. It was actually very healing for her.
In looking through the birthday cards sent to her by grandchildren in July, I discovered special memories that they had written to her, “Visiting you in Florida and driving your golf cart, the smell of your home baked cinnamon rolls and poppy bread, waking up to your waffles after a sleep over, getting a sucker from the special candy jar, having you come to our ball games or concerts, hearing the grandfather clock ticking, riding with you in your Oldsmobile, singing songs together, having a picnic on the big hill at the farm, eating your delicious pears, sharing the Mediterranean cruise, bringing you my ripped clothes for you to fix, one on one time with you at the salon, the sound of the clanking of dishes in setting the table for the holiday meals, camping together, and getting candy canes at the Christmas tree farm.” There were so many more. One of the grandchildren said, “At grandma’s house I knew I would eat well, laugh a lot, and feel loved.” I think that was true for anyone who visited her, including her friends.
Mom’s friend circle spanned far and wide. People were so good to her. The phone would ring constantly. There was a continuous stream of cards in her mailbox, with prayers and well wishes. For the last several months Mom’s dining room table was never without a bouquet of flowers. She so appreciated that people thought of her with flowers while she was living, rather than wait until she was gone. So many people visited her, and wonderful stories and memories were shared. We thank you all for being a good friend to her. She felt so blessed.
Cooking great food was something my mom was known for. I love the words of one of the grandchildren, “The food was delicious because of the incredible amount of love poured into it.” Maybe that was truly her secret ingredient, the love. We’ve become spoiled, but thankfully she passed her skill on to other family members to continue the tasty food. We’d insisted that her recipes be compiled in a cookbook, so as to carry on the tradition. We’ve all joked, “What if she missed an ingredient!” As mom lay in her bed in the living room her final days, she smiled as she watched the hustle and bustle of meal preparation, she took in the aromas, listened to the clanking of pots and pans, and had one eye on making sure the recipe was followed correctly. Two double batches of cinnamon rolls were made in her presence in the last few days, of which she wanted just one last bite.
Our Mom was a fashion queen, and I’m certain that she kept Macy’s and Chico’s in business. We joked that the Macy’s store in Eau Claire finally closed when Mom was no longer able to shop there. Just last Friday an Amazon package arrived with something she wanted to wear for her burial. She wanted to be completely outfitted right down to her shoes. I wonder if there are still more things due to arrive? We chuckled not long ago when she informed us, “You know, girls, stripes are in this year.” She always knew the latest trends. She said many times over the years that it was important not to look like a “ragamuffin,” but none of us really knew what a ragamuffin looked like. People always said, “Your mom just has so much class, she is always so put together.” And it was the truth. She never looked her age, and truthfully, she never believed she was 85. She took great care of the mind, body and spirit God gave her. Mom was always quite humble about the gifts God gave her. She would say, “To God be the
glory.” And she believed that a person would never grow angry if they could focus on having a
grateful heart.
Let us leave you with these final thoughts:
Grief never ends, but it changes. It is a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of
weakness nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love.
One thing we know for sure, “God is love, and love always wins.”
Obituary for Edith Marie Weisenbeck
Edith Marie “Edie” Weisenbeck received her angel wings on September 24, 2020, at her home, surrounded by her family. She lived with pancreatic cancer for the past 3 ½ years, always positive, always believing she would beat it, right up to her last days. Her faith in God was remarkable, always trusting that He would carry her through her illness. She always prayed for a grateful heart, “Lord, you have given me so much, I ask for one more thing, a grateful heart.” The rosary and her devotion to the Blessed Virgin carried her through, especially when attending mass was no longer an option.
Edie was born to Edwin and Louisa Gasteyer in Eau Galle, WI on July 18, 1935. Later in her childhood she moved to Durand, WI. She graduated from Durand High School in 1953. She worked at Security National Bank and then married her childhood sweetheart, Arnold “Arnie” Weisenbeck, taking on the many tasks of a dairy farmer’s wife, and mother of 6 children.
Edie had the gift of generosity and of helping others—Mom was a Weight Watcher’s coach for years, helping many reach their goals of healthier lifestyles. The minute Edie heard of any loss or tragedy in the community, she would whip up a batch of her famous cinnamon rolls or a casserole, and deliver them to their door. She was a volunteer in her parish as well as at Sacred Heart Hospital for many years.
Edie had the gift of hospitality. She could cook a gourmet meal in an hour, and entertained many guests in her home in the fine style of Edie’s Bed and Breakfast. She loved entertaining her family for every holiday, sometimes cooking for days ahead of time to make all of her signature foods. She lived for those gatherings, and was able to host Christmas for her entire family this last year. She always wore her traditional green plaid cooking dress for holidays, complete with a fresh apron.
Edie had the gift of friendship. Her circle of friends in the Durand/Menomonie community, her church community, her Lily Lake community, and in her nationwide Cenex circle was enormous, as evidenced by the hundreds of greeting cards that have graced her mailbox.
Edie was a talented seamstress. She sewed apparel, created home décor, and many gorgeous quilts. Hundreds of people have enjoyed her wool mittens.
Edie had the gift of fashion, always dressed to the nines, right down to beautiful jewelry for any occasion. Her work at Dayton’s and Anshus Jewelry allowed her to fuel this passion. She never missed a good sale.
Edie was married to Arnie for 64 happy years. They raised 6 children, and were successful dairy, crop, and Christmas tree farmers. Edie is survived by her husband, Arnie, her 6 children, Michelle Lusis, Terry (Sharon) Weisenbeck, Chris (Roxane) Weisenbeck, Marcia (Jim) Danzinger, Curt (Denise) Weisenbeck, Todd (Wendy) Weisenbeck, foster son, Dave O’Keefe, 12 grandchildren, 14 great grandchildren, and 3 sisters, Thelma Weisenbeck, Cathy Hei and Marge Schefelbein all of whom she cherished and loved dearly. She was proceeded in death by her parents, Edwin and Louisa Gasteyer, and her sister, Carol Hartung.
The family would like to thank Mayo Cancer Center, Mayo Hospice Care team, Fr. Emmanuel Asa Moah-Bekoe and Deacon Reinhardt for their care and support.
Edie’s Celebration of Life began in the final days of her life with her immediate family, so that she could be part of it. The funeral at St. Mary’s Assumption Parish in Durand will be private. An opportunity to pay a last respect will be held from 10:00AM-11:00AM Tuesday at the church, due to COVID-19, no family members will be present.
**Edie's funeral will be live-streamed on the Rhiel Funeral Home Facebook page. If you would like to see the funeral please tune in to our Facebook page shortly before 11:00AM.**
Rhiel Funeral Home & Cremation Services, Durand, is serving the family.
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