Lydia A. Malzone

I'm so saddened to just be reading this great loss. I loved Lydia she was the secretary to our Rep Jim Keenan. I was just talking how Jim was scheduled on one of the planes that hit 9/11 and luckily he had cancelled his flight. I was Jim's CSR. I got to know Lydia so well phone wise. She was a sweetheart. We would laugh & cry on the phone. She talked so much about her son Wesley, gardening, beach, wine and so much fun. God bless her now and angel. I'm so heartbroken and send my condolences. We all loved Rexall Sundown Vitamins. I was fortunate to work 7 years in Boca. I love you Lydia and will see you in the other side.

March 23, 2010
Today, I learned a wonderful, kind, funny, caring lady has died. My heart is so heavy with grief at learning that Lydia is no longer with us. I worked with Lydia when she worked for Rexal Sundown in Norwell. We became good friends, having that "hey girlfriend" chemistry right away, knowing we could share and care for each other at a deep level. We had so many laughs and long conservations about "life". I lost touch with Lyd over year ago. The last time I talked to her she was so sad about losing her longtime friend and companion, Beau. Love of dogs is something we shared. I'll never forget the night we went to see Joan Baez. Just for a night, we were back in time to our youth and shared many stories. She was a great encourager to me to pursue my painting. She loved the windchimes I painted her for her porch. Lydia loved a good joke, a good belly laugh, a glass of wine at happy hour, music (she turned me on to John Mayer), the beach, oh yes, how she loved the beach, her beloved son, daughter in law, granddaughter and sister and many great friends. I loved Lydia and I pray I will see her again some day, we'll catch up on lost time and have a nice glass of wine together. Til then my friend, I will miss you and remember all the good that was Lydia Malzone.
Nancy Sheerin, Kingston, MA

I knew both Ron and Lydia Malzone before Wesley was born, but lost touch with Lydia after her divorse from Ron.

My deepest condolences to Wesley and the rest of her family!

Last week, a mutual friend, Jody Doyle, found Lyd’s obituary in the paper and sent it to me in Texas with a sad note. I had to read the first line several times. It couldn’t be true. I think my heart stopped beating.
My shock and disbelief has turned into incredible sadness and a terrible sense of void as it all continues to sink in deeper and deeper: She is gone – her brown skin, her laughter, her toe rings and silver bracelets, her painted toes and fingers, her music, her earth colors and leather bags. She was classic old school. Lydia never really walked one step out of who she had been her entire life - Gypsy-inspired, free spirit, nonconformist, hippie flower child, selfless and independent at the same time.
I remember like everyone else her wind chimes and garden, her front porch with candles, chairs and plants scattered across it, her crushed mussel shells in the driveway, her faded beach chair and bathing suits, and her almost daily sojourn through the neighborhood down to the beach, even in winter. In the summer, the beach was where she was most comfortable, where her home really was. It was where she held court.
‘Down the beach’ for Lyd was where strangers turned into friends, problems went away, recipes were swapped, and Beau collected tennis balls. Beer, wine, hard lemonade, fresh fruit from a Scituate stand, salty snacks – she carried enough for fellow beach bums who’d pull their chairs up next to her for an hour or the afternoon just to hang in her presence and share stories.
Lydia loved the Red Sox and the Pats, the music concerts on public television, and she had the most extensive collection of music cds I’d ever seen.
She thought both Tony Soprano and Osama bin Laden were sexy, despite who they were and what they did. And she knew she shouldn’t feel that way, but she did and confessed with that girly giggle of hers that she had always liked ‘bad boys’.
She loved her little yellow house and lighthouses. She loved her sunflowers and the lettuce from her garden. She shared her bounty with her friends. She made great salads.
Lydia was not supposed to go anywhere. Not for a long, long time. She was always there for others and despite her own admittance that she had no idea about a lot of things in life, it was her quietness and the offer of her company that brought comfort to lost or broken people. She was the tower; she was the strength; she was the one who defied all elements and circumstances, and always found her way back onto the path. Life let her down, she suffered her losses, but she could not be defeated.
Lyd was Allison’s unofficial godmother – a relationship they both joked about and enjoyed. Allison loved her. Lyd always understood her side of any mother-daughter argument, and always, always made Allison laugh. She was cool.
I never saw a mother so devoted to her child as Lydia was to Wesley. When he was in school in Maine, she loved driving up there and told me about their walks in the woods and Wesley’s philosophical viewpoints on life. She enjoyed his roommates and friends and was proud of her relationships with them. She hated when something/someone disappointed Wes. It was clear she wanted to absorb the blow herself rather than watch her child suffer.
When Sarah exploded onto the scene, Lydia recounted their introduction over and over. It was a funny and magical moment the day Wesley brought her home for the first time. She fell immediately in love with Wesley’s girl, and secretly hoped for a long time that Sarah would be her daughter-in-law.
It brought me great joy to read that Lydia got to meet her granddaughter. Although I have not had the pleasure of experiencing that relationship personally, I can only imagine the happiness and excitement Sophie must have brought into Lydia’s life. I know without a doubt that Lydia was looking forward to watching Sophie grow up and being a part of her life. What a wonderful time they both would have had – what a wonderful thing to think about.
When misunderstandings separate people, especially friends, everyone loses. I have missed my brown skinned friend for the past four years or more. I have often thought of her.
I moved to Texas in 2006, and Allison moved to Atlanta for grad school at Emory. A lot of time has passed.
I wish I had known that Lydia was sick. I wish I had been with her for the last six months.
Since last week when I received the news of her crossing over, Lydia is everywhere in my day to day life. She is the wind that moves my chimes, the cold night sky studded with stars, the brown stiff stalks of marsh grass in winter, the ‘Perfect Storm’ movie I rented last weekend (one of her favorite), a Moody Blues song on the radio, the bunch of fresh kale I bought at the market to turn into soup (she introduced me to kale), and the cards I sent to Wesley and Janet, as they in color and style reminded me of her. I know that Lydia will miss all of these things, and now they will be extra special to me.
I still wear the turtle brooch she gave me years ago pinned on my jacket. I have been wearing the jacket since last week.
It occurred to me that I knew Lydia in every season for five years. Every season until I too pass, I will see her and hear her and think of her, and I will never forget her.
Both Allison and I extend our deepest and most sincere thoughts and prayers that you find moments of peace in quietness and that you listen for her voice, love in your relationships and feel her arms around you, and mostly gratitude in God that He shared her, His very precious gift, with us for as long as He did.
Love, her friends, your friends,
Mary and Allison, formerly of Scituate

Lydia and I worked together and I always enjoyed our conversations about Sophie. She was kind, and caring. I am very sad to hear this news. She will be missed. Sincerely, Heather Hurd

We will always think of you and Beau when we walk on to the beach. You are in our hearts, dear friend.
Carol and P.J.

We will always think of you and Beau when we go to the beach.

Carol and P.J.

My Dear Lydia,
It makes my heart sad to think we'll never see you sitting on the porch of your lovely home across the street and our talks about Sophie and our grand girls that would always bring smile of love and joy... We will all miss you but when we hear the sounds of the Wind Chimes you are very close to my heart and I'll never forget your Love for the Sea and your Bow and most important the love you had for your son and Family... Be at Peace my friend and always know you hold a Special place in my Heart...
Love,
Dottie

Each morning I look across the street, finding it difficult to believe you will not be sitting on your porch come springtime. Sharing gardening tips, a glass of wine, hanging at the beach. Eyes lighting up when talk turned to Sophie. You will be greatly missed. And also each morning, I hear your wind chimes saying hello. Peace.

Lydia was such a wonderful and special person in my life, I will miss her greatly...but feel incredibly lucky to have so many fond memories that make me smile when I think of her.

I will miss you dearly, but I will always remember the fun times we had.

Offering our deepest condolences during this difficult time.