Jeanne Patrick Bernhard

Jeanne Bernhard Obituary

Bernhard, Jeanne Patrick
March 5, 1943 - January 22, 2011
Notre Dame Academy 1960.

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Published by Los Angeles Times from Jan. 27 to Jan. 30, 2011.

Memories and Condolences
for Jeanne Bernhard

6 Entries

Patrick Bernhard

February 1, 2011

Thank you for joining us today in what is meant to be a celebration of an exemplary life. I will do my best to get this out—I’ve had stand in offers from my beautiful wife, a Catholic priest and the sweetest 9 year old boy you’ve ever met---but I am determined to keep them off the podium.
In our society there are many metaphors for death: the closing of a book, the drawing of a curtain, the end of a journey… the “Big Sleep”. When someone we love is no longer there it is as if a sudden vacuum appears, and we are inclined to see that as an end to that person. The pain of contemplating all that they were to us, coupled with the knowledge that they will never again be a physical presence in our lives, drives us to be forgetful of that person. It compels us to reduce a loved one to a neat and tidy memory, only stumbled upon at our calm’s peril.
Not long after my father died I had an unusual experience. I was shopping at Winco, blissfully pushing my cart down the snack aisle. I happened to turn my head and see a large display of pretzels. Suddenly it was as if everything was in slow motion. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach and was overcome with an immense feeling of sadness, fondness and grief. My father LOVED pretzels. They were a constant in our home. So there I was, in the middle of Winco, weeping in front of the pretzel display. I can only imagine what the people around me must have been thinking.
Over the last several days I’ve wondered how I am supposed to prevent similar situations from happening, now that my mother is gone. I will need to avoid anything to do with Irish culture, which is going to be difficult, considering my name. I must also take great care not to pass any car dealerships, spy any hanging baskets of fuchsias, or contemplate the merits of Magnum P.I., The Love Boat or Fantasy Island. Thankfully, Portland Wrestling is no longer airing. I’ll need to shun both well heeled, powerful businesswomen and sweet old ladies with red hats alike. God help me if Bing Crosby, Tom Jones or Kenny Rogers were to unexpectedly burst forth from my car stereo.
Given the potentially daunting scope of such avoidances I think a different strategy may be in order.
I propose to turn tradition and propriety on their ears and I invite you to join me. Many of us have lost those who are very dear to us. Those who have not are almost certain to. These are the people who helped to shape our values and the way we walk in the world—the traces that we will leave wherever we go also bear their mark.
Frankly, I simply refuse to put such incredibly important people in a hidden, tidy place, away from my thoughts, just because I may burst into tears the next time I go to get a box of Bisquick so I can make my kids some French pancakes.
I refuse to allow death to REDUCE the people I love…instead, let us strive for death to be a glorious and daily celebration of these people’s EXPANSION into something much grander, much more appropriate. Let us embrace the exquisite marriage of pain and joy at having been blessed with such excellent friends and teachers.
This is what my mother was, what she tried to impart to me and my sister, and what I will fight to honor and keep alive:
My mother was a leader—among men AND women. She led from the front in both her personal and professional life. She was tough, fair, disciplined and driven. She did not leave for tomorrow what could be accomplished today. She analyzed, planned and executed her plans, drawing on the strengths and aptitudes of those around her. If she did not get their best efforts she was disappointed…she had great faith in what people could do when properly challenged.
My mother was a fighter. Throughout her life she was presented with challenges and obstacles that most people would run and hide from. She met these challenges with a beautiful, terrible resolve that was inexorable and typically successful. I am aware of at least four periods of great difficulty and change that she not only survived, but mastered, ultimately. I do not know if I am strong enough to survive even one such obstacle. She literally faced death with a mixture of amusement and bored disdain that was inspiring to see. When she did finally give in to her illness’ relentless attack, it was by her choosing and after almost ten years of staring death defiantly down.
My mother was generous, kind and non-judgmental. She assumed that you meant well. She gave you the benefit of the doubt. She welcomed everyone equally, defended the awkward, the unusual, the weak. She constantly reminded me that my side of the street was what I needed to keep clean, that everyone has their own free will and life to live, and that it is not our place to assume we can possibly understand what weighs upon or motivates those around us. You never ran out of chances with her and I should know because I used up dozens of them.
My mother embodied the qualities that most of us wish we had: generosity of spirit, forgiveness of injuries, anonymous charity, fierce loyalty and seemingly tireless resolve.
How can we possibly reduce such a person to an afterthought because it hurts too much to see her go? She, and others like her, have been utterly transformed by their passage from this life—let us at least redress our failure to properly honor and show gratitude to one another’s kindnesses and examples taught during our lives together by celebrating the beautiful change that comes over those that have passed on: at that moment their essence is raised up to a new height, it becomes crystalline and pure and a priceless singularity that we can always call upon on our own journeys of discovery and teaching.
Please join me in a last ovation for a person of great grace, charm, strength and beauty that I was very privileged and proud to call my mother!

January 31, 2011

My sympathy goes out to your family in this sad time, Randy and crissi

Sharon Benson(Heth)

January 31, 2011

My deepest sympathy to Jeanne's family. She was always a bright light and will be missed.

January 30, 2011

My sincere sympathy to the family, Jeanne was a wonderful mentor, and a kind and gentle lady, I will miss her always, and know that she is not suffering.

Staff of Pegg, Paxson & Springer Funeral Chapel Funeral Chapel

January 24, 2011

Offering our deepest condolences during this difficult time.

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