Ann Winslow Shelnutt Benzel

to the Benzel Family, I had some of my best times growing up with you guys. the swimming ,Tennis, and riding and if you were having a bad day the one person who could always lift your spirits was your mother! She will be greatly missed. With our deepest sympathy, Cindy

To Benzel Family,
She was a super nice lady and a good friend. Our condolences.
The Bedwell Family

I gathered branches, seed heads, and greens from gardens of friends and family that Mom has visited and loved. Some are from the garden that she planted and cared for most of her life.

I made them into two big arrangements so that she would have plants from head to toe. Along her side are 6 buckets for 6 children. There is a tray for Grandmother, who rests in line with Mom. Mom´s toes to her head.

All the plant material is native to southeastern Pennsylvania except the curly willow, which reminds me of Mom´s big, wild golden curls in her childhood photos, and the tulips. Even in deep winter, the plants are full of life: seeds, buds, and spores for next year´s flowers and baby plants; food for birds; secret chambers for insect larvae.

Lichen and mosses grow on the decaying fallen branches that I picked up from the ground. They make me think of the color of Mom´s eyes. The question lingers. Green or blue?

And why the tulips? I chose yellow and orange in case the day was cloudy to have some sunshine. And if you have ever had tulips in a vase in your house, you know they are a lot like Mom, surprising you each time you look at them with their constant movement. Unpredictable. Beautiful in each different moment.

An amazing woman. Rest In Peace Ann.

My mother was so many things: teacher, musician, gardener, volunteer, full of seemingly inexhaustible energy and interest.

She loved people and was fascinated by them. She was a natural interviewer who could listen with tact, comprehension, and a lack of judgment that often led total strangers to open up to her. The long-standing family joke was that she could not go anywhere without someone telling her their life story.

She was very modest and did not believe that she had any artistic talent, but that was untrue. She created beauty constantly.

A dedicated knitter, she made many beautiful, complicated sweaters. Her hands were never still. When her dexterity began to wane, she switched to simple, handsome throws, the perfect size for napping. I think my siblings and I all have one or two, as do the grandchildren, who took to calling them "Nana blankets." After a while, their friends began wistfully saying that they, too, would love a Nana blanket... I have no idea how many she made.

She was an accomplished and joyful gardener, committed to promoting native plantings. In addition to creating wonderful gardens at our home, she worked on gardens for churches, hospitals, schools - again, I have no idea how many public spaces were enriched by her care.

Above all, she loved children. She effortlessly connected with their spirit, their curiosity, their wonder. She taught, and she volunteered at daycares for many years. Of all the children she protected and encouraged and sang with and cherished, the six of us were the luckiest in having her as our mother.

One more story. Once when she was still able to travel but needed a wheelchair to navigate the airport, while pushing her I noticed that every child walking towards us started smiling. It took me longer than it should have to realize that she was making eye contact with and smiling at every single one, delighted to be on their level.

A Poem for Mom-Nana-Ann

There once was a woman of magical touch,
Who would fill her garden with wonders and such
A special variety of things she grew
All from a place she knew to be true
There were flowers, and grasses, trees to the sun
But more there were books among bulbs, and fanciful fun
Kittens, puppies, children in the garden. You know they were there.
Melodies note after note rose from earth to wriggle float, in her musical air.
She grew long summer days summoned cool summer breeze
Lilies and lilacs `longside lemonade trees.
She grew smiles for miles upon miles upon smiles
Curiosity would spring up and flourish and ponder
Of those possibilities she couldn´t be fonder
The children then children, more children she´d raise and bright eyes, those bright eyes, loved bright eyes, she´d praise

Who imagined it possible to plant inquisitivity, that defies all laws of thought gravitivity. She did and she did, so we will and we do.
Thanks to the gardener who grew what she knew and knew what she grew.