{All About MomWriters}
{MomWriters Write} Tributes to those special Momwriters who are no longer with us.
Bea Sheftel
Bea Sheftel was a freelance writer and writing teacher who lived in Manchester, Connecticut. She and her husband were married 37 years. They have one son, Rob, who lives in Rocky Hill in his own Condo. Her family was very supportive of her writing and encouraged her all the time. Her husband loved having his wife home. He joined her for lunch most days. Bea was published in fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. She was also the former editor of The Coventry Journal. She had an Associates Degree from Manchester Community College, and a Bachelor's in writing from the University of Connecticut. She taught Writing Confessions, Memoir Writing, Scrapbook Creating
and other classes through Her work appeared in several anthologies including Guideposts Books Listen To the Animals, I Bring You Glad Tidings, Chicken Soup for the Nurses Soul, Cup of Comfort for a woman's journey, Rag Dolls, and many others. She and her husband were history buffs. They participated in reenactments of the American Revolution in the American Civil War. Bea had a cable TV show called About Manchester. This hour program focused on activities in her adopted hometown of Manchester, CT. Her desire was to see her novels published, her son happily married, and to have grandchildren. For Writing articles and links to publishers check out her Writing
and Marketing page.
Momwriters' Sharing Memories of Bea
Susan Smith Thompson
I can remember Bea from the early days of her being on the list when she didn't quite know the "rules" of how the list operated and she'd get so flustered by notes from the admin folk. But she definitely came to be one of the mainstays of the list...someone you could just always count on to be here. And even if you didn't always agree with everything she said, you knew she said it out of the goodness of her heart. I met Bea and Bruce a few summers back at the York, PA gathering, and I'm glad I had the opportunity to do so. I feel so bad for Bruce and their son and d-i-l, and I especially feel bad that they're going to get the "get well" card I sent just this morning before I got this news. But hopefully it will be a reminder of how much Bea was loved by us here and how she will be missed. Lisa
Sharon W
But she was a wonderful lady. I, too, never met her in person, but
She was sweet and kind, in her own right. And taught us all so much on being true to ourselves. I sit her with tears, for a lady who was more than someone on the other side of the computer, she was a friend. Alyice Edrich
So I searched for Bea in my emails. She sent me a note with advice to see the doctor back in November when I was really sick. She ended it with "Write back. I'm worried." What a sweet woman. It's a shame to lose her. - Carol Wood
Her quotes appear in my article "Helping Seniors De-Clutter" (or whatever they named it...haven't seen it yet) appearing in this month's issue of Western New York Family. Let me know if you're interested in seeing the article. Pam
-Susan
We'll miss her. Hilary Evans
What an inspiration Bea has been to so many of us. I hope everyone's warm thoughts and fond memories of Bea will be shared with her family. Of course, they already know she was a special person, but I'm sure it would be comforting for them to know just how many lives she touched in this special community of Momwriters. Jennifer
Dawn
That says it for me. I've been on and off the list for a few years now and I just have to say... Bea, if you're looking down on us tonight, know that the love and light you shared lives on in all our hearts. I'm thinking of you & yours. Joyce B.
But a few days ago, I got an intense desire to send her a snailmail card... to tell her that even though we didn't always get along, I always felt that she was a good person and that her heart was in the right place, that I loved her simple goodness and liked her even when we clashed. I know that seems so emotionally disjointed, but I never disliked her. How could anyone? Bea always meant well. I hate having regrets. I hate crying over dead people that I should have made peace with and didn't. I thought she would come home and I could send her an email. I had one of those **feelings** and I shouldn't have ignored it. I should have sent that card. She knows now, but I wish I had gotten a chance to tell her myself. dej
Working with her in MWCrochetMoms has been a lesson in giving from the heart, true generosity. (And we're all very fortunate that Cathy shares that same generous spirit.) The unconditional love she obviously shared with her husband was to be envied, and there was a lot about Bea that reminded me of my mother (who I lost in 1994). Especially one time awhile ago when Bea and I got into an e-mail discussion about the wonderful power of making and serving homemade vegetable beef soup to your family--feeding kids pieces of raw veggies as they went in, the wonderful smell, the vitamins positively swimming in it...I think I'll make a pot in her honor on the day of her service. Goodbye, Bea, and Godspeed. Gail Kent
I'm glad to know that Bea had that "special irritating" quality for others (thank you, Wanda), as well as me. I suppose, in a way, it validated me. I'm sorry I need validation, but Bea came from the same generation as my mother. When my mom looks at me and makes a silly statement, I roll my eyes, cuss a bit, and share her idiosyncracies with others who understand. My own daughters, of course, would tell Bea what a pain in the ass I can be. I found myself cussing as Bea would utter something that I found UTTERLY ridiculous, and yet... I find myself in tears tonight, as I realize that a long-time writer friend, even one I didn't correspond with anymore, was gone. Like my mother, she loved big. It was whole, complete, total giving. She was genuine, and sometimes naive, and often hopeful, and mostly kind. She was filled with the optimism of a lifetime spent in hardship and a hope for a better tomorrow, and a tremendous fear that a better tomorrow was impossible. That was something she wanted to hide, of course, but couldn't. And that made her even more real. We all live with that. We just don't want to admit it. The world will miss Bea. ~~Natalie R. Collins
In both instances, however, the exchange was done with respect. We could agree or disagree on ideas or methods, but I always knew that Bea respected me as a person and a writer. (In fact, in her very last email to me, she tells me I need more self esteem. Yep, she could call them!) I think the ability to disagree and yet stay respectful (and even fond) made Bea seem like family. She was a major part of the MW list, and has been for a long time now. I remember when she left, upset with one thing or another, but came back because she missed the list too much. I know we were as much a part of Bea as she was of the list, and I'll miss seeing her posts (yes, even the ones I disagreed with!). Her passing does leave a hole, and a sadness I didn't realize I'd feel.... Hugs to all of you! Warmly,
She was the one that sent me links to anthologies when I needed to do something. She read my readthroughs and was always there to email me once I posted something on the list. Thank you Bea. I'll miss Bea and her emails, as well as her posts and cards. The last time we talked she was decluttering her christmas towns. I did send her a get well email but never did get around to sending her card that sits here in front of me as a reminder. I've learned a lesson, I won't postpone sending letters and cards out anymore. Eliza
Who would have thought that someone I never met could have touched my life like she did? Her enduring hope was always coming back to bring hope to everyone. I don't think that will be easy. I had many times over the years that I didn't post or read but when life got the best of me I'd come in and read posts. Bea's were some I especially sought out. There will be no more of those posts now. No more of the "Little Engine that Could". I will miss that attitude most of all. She never gave up. I guess God couldn't wait for her any longer. Who could? Safe journey dear Bea. Valerie
My condolences to those who will miss dear Bea most, Kimbra
"Copy editors have a very hard job. It is very specific and only
someone who really understands language would be good at it. I'm not
one of those. Even though words are my business I wouldn't make a copy
editor. I know. I tried. Many writers have the same problem. We might
mix our tenses, spell something wrong, or not know where the commas
go. There is a need for more copy editors but unfortunately many companies
have cut out that job to save money. They rely on the author to proof
her own work. You do the best you can, but it is easy to miss your own
mistakes. BEA" That piece of paper has become an anchor for me, keeping me from floating off, away from what I'm trying to accomplish. There is no price anyone could give me that would come close to paying for what that simple note has done for me. Bea is priceless, and those little things everyone here has been referring to will keep her in our present tense - a little bit of her will live on in everyone she has touched. Elizabeth
It's not enough for me to say she will be missed. There is a hole that cannot be filled. Terri Pray
I can't say that she and I were close, but we had moments. She's always been so supportive and helpful. She cheered me on when I needed to make changes in my personal and writing life. Hers was the heart of the list. I'll miss her. I just can't believe it. Jerri
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/momwriters/message/195558 The end of the post is especially touching. I remember when I first joined this list writing to Bea to tell her how interesting I found her posts and always read hers. I even used to put her name into search engines to read things she had published. She wrote back to tell me how touched she was that I admired her writing so much and she was going to save my e-mail. I cried last night when I heard she had gone. It's unusual for me to break down when I hear of someone's death, sometimes I find it hard to cry. But Bea's spirit was so strong, her generosity, her plain speaking. We got to hear of her life, how she felt about things. Sometimes knowing someone online can be more intimate than it is in everyday life. She was a big part of this list. When I woke up this morning she was the first person on my mind. I'm still in a state of disbelief. Lynette
Bea will be missed. May God comfort those she has left behind, Rachel
Phyllis Edgerly Ring
My heart goes out to Bruce and Bea's son, DIL, and the rest of her family. They were so important to her, and I'm sure she was twice as important to them. Bea, Godspeed to you as you pass from this life to the next. You will be greatly missed, but you will live on in many, many hearts. Rebecca Rohan
I called information in Connecticut yesterday and got the phone number for Memorial Hospital in Manchester, Connecticut because I wanted to surprise Bea and call her on the phone and perhaps lift her spirits. I never made that call yesterday. Life got in the way. Megan and I attended a huge award ceremony for the Mountain View Marauders last night where each of the girls on the Junior Pee Wee team received a special trophy and recognition for their outstanding performance and "sportsmanship.". Even I got recognition for the e-book of the cheerleaders I created for the girls, and Megan and I were thrilled to learn that the coaches are moving up one notch to coach Pee Wee's instead of Junior Pee Wee's, which means all the girls on Megan's team last year, including Megan, can be together once again. The coaches realized that the team was "magical" and that they just couldn't separate the girls, who were all so happy and thrilled to see each other last night. --Which reminded me of the emails Bea had sent me - to let Megan and her team know how proud she was all of them for being so wonderful and for showing us all the right way to live. I remembered that Bea had sent Megan the book, "Black Beauty," a couple of years ago, and Megan loved that book. It turned out to be one of her favorites. She had sent Bea and email to thank her, and they had communicated back and forth for a while. So, Megan and I came home last night in high spirits with trophies and award certificates and gifts. When I saw that it was already 8:00pm (California time), I decided I'd call Bea this morning from work. What's one more day? One more day. One more moment. This morning, I put the piece of paper with the phone number on my desk right next to the computer so I could call as soon as the attorneys quit bothering me and I had a free moment. Then, between jobs, I popped into email for a moment. Just one moment. As soon as I saw "update on Bea," I had to open the email. When I read the email from Nikki, I sat there and stared at the computer screen, stunned. Yes, I still functioned, yes I still did work and even answered phone calls and even talked to a couple of my MomWriter friends who called me on the phone. I felt as if I was just going through the motions, trying to make it through the day and make sense of everything. In spite of the craziness and chaos of the day full of frantic attorneys, paralegals and legal secretaries, I managed to escape to the outdoors for a little while. I sat by the water and watched several Canada geese fly in a circle and then glide into the water. Look Bea, I thought, looking up. Can you see them now? I'll bet you can! Aren't they beautiful when they do that, spreading their wings wide? Then I got up and walked down the pathway as fast I could. Several Canada geese indignantly moved out of the way because I dared to tread on their path. I ran towards the labyrinth. Perhaps if I walked through the labyrinth, the circle of life, I could make sense out of all of this. So, I walked, traveling the journey of life, and as I did the early afternoon breeze blew past me and I suddenly saw a picture in my mind, as if I could see her right in front of me and could touch her - it was Bea. We were walking down the pathway that lead towards the cafeteria at Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs, New York, Bea and I, on a beautiful summer day, surrounded by tall trees swaying in the early afternoon breeze, the smell of grass and flowers and pine filling our nostrils. I always walked slow so Bea could keep up with me. Bea had "enlisted" me to help her teach a class at Skidmore College called "Writing for the Internet." We had just finished teaching the class, my first teaching experience, but not Bea's, and we were headed back to the dorm room we shared before dinner at the cafeteria. Suddenly, she stopped and spun completely around twice. Then she laughed. "What was that for?" I asked Bea, giggling. "Oh, just because it's so beautiful here and I'm happy!" "Yeah, me too!" I said. "I'm happy too." As I continued to walk the labyrinth, faster and faster, I almost felt as if I could reach out my hand and touch her. Then I remembered night time in the dorm room. Bea had brought her bedroom lamp from home and even a portable TV to make our room seem more like a real room than just a plain dorm room. I remembered Bea asleep in the bed with the soft lamp illuminating the room, and I felt so safe and warm - as if my mother had returned to tuck me in. I left the light on because I knew Bea didn't like the dark. Then I remembered how Bea and Bruce picked me up at the airport in their special van and I got to ride in the back. And how they doted over me as if I was one of their children and made sure that I was comfortable when I spent the night at their pad, surrounded by their wonderful dogs. They worried over whether I had enough to eat or drink. I felt as if I had come home to family when I was around Bea, like I had gone on a long journey and had finally returned home. Then I remembered how Katie and I drove in Katie's car all the way from New Paltz, New York to Manchester, Connecticut in the rain just to visit Bea and her husband for the afternoon as a small "momwriters" gathering. Although only Katie and I showed up, we had a marvelous time at the Hometown Buffet, and Bea had made special name tags for all of us. I never forgot how Bruce's nametag said, "Bruce, MomWriter Husband," and Bruce's friend Steve's name tag said, "Steve - MomWriter Friend." Bea wanted to make sure that if anyone showed up, they'd know exactly who we all were. The funny thing was, Bruce and Steve wore their nametags the entire afternoon, not only at the buffet, but at the book store and everywhere else we went as well. Only Bea would think of something like that. I stopped on the path for a moment. Someone had apparently dropped a clump of small yellow flowers on the path, close to the center. That was odd. I'd never seen that before. I wondered who would have dropped those flowers for a moment. They looked fresh and alive, as if they hadn't been there for long, and they were yellow, my favorite color. Yellow like Bea - beautiful and bright and - yellow. I left the flowers there and continued on my journey to the center where I breathed in deeply and looked up. I remembered the email Bea had sent me in December which said, "I've been neglecting you, and I'm sorry. Let's talk soon." Neglecting me? I remember how I had laughed when she sent that email. It sounded just like something my mom would have said. Then I remembered all the thoughtful emails, the words of encouragement, even the "nudges" to do something with my writing. I remember how I said I didn't think I was worthy to be a writer, and Bea wrote back to me right away and said, "You are a writer." She always believed in me, more than I even believed in myself. So, I stood there in the center today and the tears fell like rain for my dear, precious Bea, who I will miss so terribly. But then I remembered what she said in another email from long ago, which I'd like to share with you. I don't think Bea would mind. She sent this to me on October 28, 2003 (the day after my mother's birthday): "My father used to cry when he thought of his death. My brother said it was selfishness but I know differently. Now that I'm older I cry thinking of my future death and Bruce's not because we fear death, but because it means leaving our son and loved ones. Because we know that death brings sadness to the living. Perhaps the best thing we can do for those we love who have passed is live the best life we can, and remember them with smiles. Here's to your Mom. Happy Birthday in Heaven! You produced a wonderful daughter I'm proud to call my friend." I smiled through the tears as I remembered Bea - all the fun emails, the good times we shared at Skidmore College. Bea gave me and taught me so much. She taught me to believe in myself no matter what and how to love - she was so devoted to Bruce and her son and her family. When I saw Bea and Bruce the last time at the buffet, she worried about whether Bruce was eating and drinking all the right things, worried over whether he exerted himself too much because he had suffered a heart attack. She couldn't go to Skidmore that year because she didn't want to leave Bruce alone for a week. Bea worried about everyone else more than she thought of herself. That's just the way she was, she is. Heck, I'm the one who is proud to call Bea my dear friend. I somehow managed to get through the hectic, busy day and when I finally got out and drove home, I noticed that the sun was just beginning to go down over the Santa Cruz mountains, and there was a special glow that seemed different. When I saw the sun shining just right, casting a glow over the trees on the hills in the distance, I smiled through my tears once again. Hey Bea, I know you're up there and your nephew is with you and all your family. But do me a favor and say hello to my mom for me, okay? I know you guys will get along really well and have a blast together. And now I know that I don't just have one guardian angel looking out for me. I have two. Thank you Bea. Know that we'll never forget you. As I sit here this evening, I've got two songs to sing for you, Bea. I'm not sure if these are the songs you would have picked or if these are your favorite songs, but when I heard them, I thought of you. We'll all sing along, okay? Believe it or not, one of the songs isn't even a Beatles song. It's the song I was listening to on CD when I saw the sun shining just right over the trees, and I knew you were up there. Actually, Megan begged me to get the CD because she loves the song, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams," and I didn't think I'd like this CD, but I love it. It's fresh and new. It's a new rock CD by Green Day called "American Idiot." I know you probably don't like the title of the CD much, but you'll love this song, called "Wake Me Up When September Ends" - because when I heard it tonight, I thought of you. And now every time I hear it or sing it, I will think of you. Then, of course, we will sing a Beatles song. Okay, are you ready? I've got my guitar out, and the song starts out really soft (but gets louder as it goes on). Just imagine all of us singing this song, and we've got acoustic AND electric guitars (and bass and drums). Remember how much you loved the dancing and the music and the drums at the parties we had at the Skidmore Remember the Magic final night? Well, you'll love this. Here goes. Summer has come and passed Seven years has gone so fast Here comes the rain again Drenched in my pain again As my memory rests Summer has come and passed Ring out the Bells again Falling from the stars Becoming who we are As my memory rests But never forgets what I lost Wake me up when September ends. I wish I could write beautiful poetry right now, but I just can't. All I can do is offer Bea these songs that I hear and what I know. And now, let's sing "Let It Be" for our Bea. It's only fitting. Are you ready? When I find myself in times of trouble And in my hour of darkness
Let it be, let it be
And when the broken hearted people
For though they may be parted
Let it be, let it be
I wake up to the sound of music
I don't know about you, but somehow I feel better now. I think we needed to sing. Let's smile as we think of Bea and how wonderful she was, even when she drove us a little crazy. Thank you Bea, for who you are and all you've done. We'll never forget you. Love,
Laura Lehman
Like everyone on this list, I am absolutely stricken about Bea's death. I have been a member of this group for a long time, and Bea was always there with a quick word of encouragement. She was a cheerful soul and and energetic organizer of the local Connecticut group, she was a friend who shared her thoughts and her life with us, and she was quick to help all --no matter what the circumstance. I will never forget her. I am wondering if there is some way we can memorialize Bea in an active way. The tribute to Bea that Karen put together is beautiful, and I certainly support that effort (GREAT job, Karen!). But since Bea was so quick to help friends and neighbors, I wonder if we can do a little more, too (and I'm thinking out loud here, so none of this should be considered a definite proposal; maybe more like brainstorming)--like creating a young writers' scholarship in her name (perhaps through the local high school, or through the community college in Manchester where Bea taught), or developing an ongoing project in her name (like giving the momwriters crochet group some extra yarn and donating the resulting items to a women's shelter in her name), or maybe like donating some craft materials to the senior citizens' group that Bea worked with in Manchester. I don't know exactly what constitutes a good memorial to Bea, but I do know that it would be something that HELPS other people. It could be another momwriter that is helped, or an outside person/group. But I think the main thing would be that the memorial help someone, in some way. I don't think it needs to be a large sum of money--just a gesture that memorializes Bea and her selfless giving ways. What say the Momwriters? Sharyn Addendum: What I wrote about was trying to find a way to honor Bea in a meaningful way. I have been thinking that it would do Bea the greatest honor to do something HELPFUL in her memory. Bea was one of the MOST helpful people I have ever been privileged to know. Even though I live in Connecticut, I never managed to meet her in person, and yet she helped me with my writing and organizing more than any other person ever has! Originally, I thought about starting some sort of scholarship fund
for young writers, to be administered through her old high school or
college, or the community college where she taught. Or possibly making
a "workshop scholarship" for someone to the college in New
York where she and Melody taught--paying the fees for someone otherwise
unable to afford workshop attendance. Other thoughts (and these are
really just thinking out loud--brainstorming--and should not be construed
as definite proposals) include possibly starting a fund for materials
and postage for the crochet moms group, or naming a momwriters award
in her honor. Maybe we could donate something--craft I'm struggling here with finding an appropriate memorial for a dear friend. I know she often put aside her own needs in order to help other people, and somehow, that spirit should be recognized and continued, if possible. That's what I'm trying to think about. Since I live nearby, I will attend the wake (and maybe the funeral, I hope we'll find a way to memorialize Bea as a community, and I look
forward to working with some of you to find this way.
In Bea's final post where she states she has more living to do, I know that I'm reminded to do all the living I can while I'm still on this earth. I have a miserable tendency to procrastinate. In Bea's honour, I will work harder to achieve my writing goals. I won't write my novel next month, next year, or even tomorrow. I will write today and Bea will smile upon me as I accept her gift of more life to be lived. Carolyn
I could probably dig it out, but i know someone here still has one of those bookmarks. Carma was sent one and Cathy had one I think. If i can remember before too late, I'll go back and drag it up (from my website?) and post it. it's at www.wingnutexpress.com and in the poetry section. Why did this just hit me so? Because of the line: "in the hearts of many you never remember having once met ...." I can't remember the words. i'll just have to go look it up and post it. grr. Wanda the Wingnut Addendum: Bea had a quality about her that I found extremely irritating. And yet she was so sweet. I can honestly say that she had a heart like gold. Bea never wanted to hurt anyone and could not imagine that anything she would do or say might do just that. I distanced myself somewhat from Bea simply because I didn't want to say something totally tactless out of my own impatience and hurt her with my thoughtlessness. And yet, there Bea was with her golden heart. Encouraging Inspiring Suggesting Helping Advising Whether I wanted any of that or not. What is a friend for---if not to do these things, whether we want them or not? When I put little feelers here and there for testimonials that I could dot around my website, I didn't get a lot of response. However, Bea came forward with the most beautiful testimonial any poet could ever hope to have said. I must say that recognizing the poet inside me required a poet of equal caliber or better to dwell inside her. When Bea shared her thoughts about MY poetry with me, I cried at the praise coming from such a high caliber writer. I know she respected my gift as a writer and loved my poetry. The hard part for me now is that I want to honor her with the most beautiful verse I could write and the lines fail me. So to Bruce and the rest of Bea's family and friends I give these few words from my heart: Bea Sheftel lived long, loved life, and shared her golden heart with everyone around her. The rest of us would do well to learn from her example. Thank you Bea. Wanda the Wingnut
Kris
Tears,
My deepest sympathy go out to her family and loved ones. Patti Hermes
I'll miss you, Bea! Charlotte Dillon
I don't think there is a person on the list that hasn't gotten a "Bea-mail" when they really needed it most.She seemed to have a way of knowing just what to say. <giggle> Some of us got them complete with her opinions from time to time also. But that was Bea. Bless her, she gave you her opinion and hugged you by e-mail all at the same time. Ya just had to love that. :) The one thing that is just going to break my heart is when I post to the Regional Hosts I know that I won't see that all familiar first e-mail reply..... "Bea Sheftel here for Connecticut...." Bea Sheftel, you may not be in Connecticut, but you will always be in my heart. Thanks for the life lessons.... Jes F
love always Susan M Thompson
Until our words join our hearts once again, Carma
Bea was already a MW when I joined nearly five years ago, and I too was the recipient of the occasional "Bea-mail" (gosh, I like that term!). She was the first MW to send a snail mail card way back when my DH was in the hospital for 7 weeks. She sent a sympathy card when my m-i-l died. And yet, I did not know her well. And sadly, in the last year or two, as my own "chiming in" has declined, I knew her less and less. But just like in real-life, maybe we, as an online community, can learn something in her passing. Many messages that came through the list today were from long-time members who've gradually faded into lurk mode - wow, I was surprised to see some of those names! I count myself among them - Momwriters we hardly hear from anymore but miss dearly. The reasons are the usual - we're busy, we're stressed, and email is less of a priority. Like "real-life" mourners, maybe we can resolve to try to take a minute here and there to come around more often and reconnect with the friends we've found here. Most of us spend much of our days at or near our computers - how long does it take to post to the list with a bit of wit and wisdom, or send an offlist "way to go!" to those who are roaring? Bea kept being an "active" member right up until she went into the hospital - can we learn from her example? She will be missed for many reasons. What better way to pay her tribute than to follow her example of giving back to this wonderful list? Shelley
Bea and I never argued really. We'd just both share our differing points. When we both joined the list (and we did so very near to each other), Bea had a different idea about writing. She wanted her writing published and she didn't put a lot of monetary value in her writing. Her big thing was getting published and having people read her work. For many years her advice came from that point of view. Oh and Bea was always straight forward. She loved with her big heart, but she also always let you know her two cents. And her two cents wasn't always the most politically correct, which as a moderator of this list, it could cause some, shall we say interesting days. I never thought Bea wrote anything to hurt anyone, but I also know there were times she did. She spoke her mind, and she wasn't always the first to accept there might be other points of view. But that was Bea, and although she might step on a few toes when you first meet her, after a while you realize she didn't have a mean bone in her body. But in the years on this list, Bea grew as a writer and I was amazed by it. She began to value her work as more than an outlet for readers. She encouraged everyone to do the same. More often than not, I couldn't find fault in her advice, or find a need to post a rebuttal or "but this worked for me" type of post. And that doesn't even touch on her work for Momwriters, her love for Bruce, and how even with a grown son, she still had all the worries of a mother that I, a mother of toddlers, could relate too. Oh, how she agonized over her son, and looked for ways to connect with him as an adult. That's when I wrote to Bea offlist. After all, I have a mother who probably has as much or more stuff than Bea admitted to having and unlike Bea, my mother wasn't doing anything to get rid of any of it. I hope I helped her understand her son's point of view, and she definitely helped me realize what my mother was saying about her stuff. And I would literally ache when Bea would post to the list distraught that her son and his new wife didn't want the treasured item she was sure they would love. And it made me think of the times I told my mom, thanks, but no thanks. I helped Bea understand her son's point of view as much as she helped me understand my mother, but I doubt it. I especially remember her touching posts about her husband. His decision to retire. His heart health scare. Bea loved Bruce so much. And she drew on all of her years of experience to help the rest of us in our mothering and our writing and how to be in love, and always on how to be a writer even with or without a published credit. But most of all Bea showed by example how to be a good neighbor, even in cyberspace. She was like a mother to all of us, and she cared for all of us however she could. I am definitely going to miss Bea's two cents on everything. It was always worth so much more. Linda Sherwood
Over the years we got to know each other. We didn't email all the time, but we knew what each other was doing. When you wrote for Themestream, Epioions (sp), Suite101.com and Web Seed you gave them your all. You rallied the troops and stood by what you believed in and wrote articles from the heart. Web Seed was your baby, you put so much into your site. Your Amish writings, research and passions were published there. You emailed me one day in a panic. You couldn't access your cd which held the beginnings of your Amish book and all the research you had done. The Amish was your passion and you were sick over the discovery that your only back-up wasn't accessible. You sent me the cd and a replacement cd in hopes I could get your data back, and I did. You were so happy, I could see you smiling and feel your excitement across the country. When you had computer problems you gave your trust to me 100%. You listened to my virus warnings, how to use your email program in order to avoid getting a virus. You bought my ebook that took me 3 years of procrastination to write. You stood by me every step of the way for all that time. When I finished you were first in line to buy it! I think it was because I finally sat on the procrastination monster, while applying the butt to the chair method to write. Who knew it was so easy to write once the butt was on the chair! You did Bea, you knew and you wrote to the list over and over that the only method to being a writer was to write! You got it, and you wrote, your passions, poetry and anything else that inspired you. During the year 2001 you would put a few dollars in my Paypal account to help with food, medicine, and gifts for the kids. It wasn't much, but it was a wonderful gift and surprise that went a long way. When the Nisqually quake hit Bellevue/Seattle area, February 2001 you were right there reading my blow-by-blow reports of an earthquake happening and the aftermath. You were concerned about me and my family. I can tell you it does look kind of weird to watch the walls and floor ripple while you are in your third floor apartment with a four year old. You waited until Matthew got home from school and Brett got home from work before you were satisfied that we were all okay. Your worry and concern went much further than just what was going on the list. Momwriter's was a part of your life and you were a part of the life of Momwriter's. Cyberspace didn't separated us, we are as real as we are the people walking down the street or sitting in your living room. Over the years you were emailing the list, Momwriter's, with Bea wisdoms. You would point out to hug and love one another and our family. You sent words of encouragement to others off list. On February 24th you knew what was going on and you sent out a prayer request. How brave of you to do so, sick and feeling very week. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/momwriters/message/195823 Bea thank you for being you. You are loved by many and will be missed greatly. Your passions, your words, your determination, your inspiration to many will not be forgotten. Here's to you Bea, thank you, Anna Morvee
It's at times like this that I realize how fragile life is. We need Lynette
My other favorite memory of Bea was the way she interpreted all of my dear Franco's actions and words, as she "understood perfectly" the Italian male mindset and the Italian family dynamic.... especially "mamma." She was wonderfully supportive of me during my trials and tribulations with "that Italian man-o-mine," and was still pulling for me after she learned of all the Christmas gifts that he sent to me and Sasha this past year. gloria
She told me how the faces of these people would light up as they That person was Bea. I sent her a box of scrapbook materials and she wrote back and told me how helpful it was. I remember thinking how much she did for others, not to impress, but because her heart had a large capacity to love others. She inspired me to be a better person, to push forward with my writing and to love more freely. Goodbye Bea! We shall meet in Heaven. Sonya
How we're all going to miss you.I've been in supreme lurk mode, but you faithfully kept in touch with everybody on the list, even the silent ones like me. The love you have for your family shone through cyberspace like a star. Thank you so much for showing me how to love people, with your approval and your suggestions and your worries and your happiness. Thank you so much for your writing. Thank you so much for caring about so many people. I hope that somehow you get this message. Now that you've passed, I don't know how to get this too-late email to you, but you always believed the heart goes on, and judging from the outpouring of love on the list, it truly does. If anybody would be checking their email in heaven, it would be you, Bea! so - thank you for everything. I'm going to try harder to reach out to other people, and to be there when people need me. God Bless Michele
I only just learned now (Tuesday) about dear Bea's death. I feel irrationally disgusted w/ myself that I was too busy buying a car (replacing our on-the-ropes station wagon w/ a mini-van) and being stressed out about it to read any MW posts, so I just deleted several whole digests unread. Today I did read an e-mail from the MWCrochetMoms group I'm on, and luckily Cathy Brownfield posted the news there as well <thank you, many hugs, Cathy> I went and had a good cry hugging the MW afghan that the group made for me when I had surgery a couple of years ago. The kindness and caring that went into that afghan meant so much to me, and exemplifies Bea's spirit. I never had the good fortune to meet her in person, but we've exchanged many e-mails over the years on topics from writing to household hints to family woes to knitting. I have a large envelope of old cotton socks on my table right now that Bea sent to me to help me w/ a knitting project she knew I was struggling with. I'll have to go give those a hug too. Like so many of you, I sent Bea a get-well card to her home when I heard she was so ill w/ pneumonia. Who knows if she got to read it or not. I've only just begun to catch up on the flood of Bea-posts on our main list, and I can't read too many at once b/c I have to pace the sadness a little. I still don't know what she died of. I do know that she loved her family so very dearly it was inspirational. She wrote often of her husband and son especially, also her sister and the tragic loss of her sister's grown son not too long ago. She surely loved MomWriters and CrochetMoms, and the outpouring of love and grief at her passing shows how many hearts she touched. I feel humbled by that, and by knowing her, even if just in cyberspace. Sadly,
I Was Here By Trula Wyatt I WAS HERE! “So and so was here!” Something I read triggered the memory of carved names on desks, cold hard school floors and mass white noise in the background as hundreds of students pass each other in the halls. Teachers standing in groups talking and preparing for the next class. Fond memories of growing up in the shelter of childhood. My thoughts always continue to the abrupt halt my world came to. Death in my family forever changed my life. My father died just after my 14th birthday. With a set of older half-sisters, the usual things happened. First the court battle over the contested will (by the adult half-sisters, of course). Then all the property, which was my only home, was sold for “their share”. Finally my single mother, now widowed, moving us to a new area for work to support us. So many times in my adult life, I have returned to that scrape of land that will always be home to me. With different owners, it isn’t the same. I see the place different than what’s there. I see the tree my dad planted in the front yard. On the left by the road was fenced off for my pony. To the right was a road my dad made with a bulldozer. The whole place was shaped by him. He built the front of our house, the porch, water spigot in the front yard just off the walkway, right by the tree. The well pump house and almost everything I can think of - he built or installed himself. His imprint on the world, less than two acres, all shaped and formed by him for my mother and me. Don’t misunderstand me. He was no saint- not even close, but all he did, all the things he formed with his hands are now gone. The school will also be just a memory. After this year, it will be closed and torn down. The desks will be gone. The bright lights, the square tiled floors, the walls, decorations, chalkboards, and all the markings of the people I remember best in our bratty stages of life. As we all scratched, cut, carved or otherwise defiled public property with “Such and Such was here!” This will all be gone along with things I cherished from what my dad made. These things that made the statement, “Dad was here!” I have always written my thoughts and feelings. Words that pop into my head seem to have a more direct line to my hands, even more than my mouth. I wonder what makes us all so intent on leaving our mark? The need to show those after us, “We were here!” Even as I write this and dream of penning “The Great Novel”, I know what I am really wanting to do is leave a carved, dark and permanent mark saying, “I WAS HERE!” I think Bea left her mark in a wonderful way. She carved herself on the face of Momwriters in a way that no one wants to erase. So I think we should frame it with ourselves in the kindness and wisdom we can give to others. "Bea was here!" Maria Shanti
Like so many others have said, Bea welcomed me when I joined Momwriters back in 2000. I haven't been a very active member over the years--I seem to come and go as life gets more hectic and e-mail gets pushed to the back burner--but whenever I checked in, Bea was always there. She wrote to congratulate me when my younger daughter was born and when I broke into some of my target markets. She was such a constant presence and will be greatly missed. Although we did butt heads a few times offlist (and I've been comforted to hear that others of you "clashed" at times, as well), I always admired her love for her husband and son. E-mail can be so impersonal and you don't always know what someone is thinking as you read one of her posts. Not Bea. Everything she wrote about Bruce and Rob showed the love and devotion she felt for them--even if they were driving her crazy at the time. I hope that I can be the kind of mom and wife she was. Bruce, Rob and the rest of Bea's family are in my thoughts and prayers.
I've been spending a lot of time reading her posts from way back today--it gives me some comfort. I've also ordered two of her books: "Beauty in the Weeds" from Amazon [book of Bea's poems]and the latest one she mentioned earlier this year that has one of her stories in it, "Journeys of Joy" from God Allows U-Turns. Lynette
I had words offlist a few times with Bea . . . we didn't always see eye to eye on things altough we were always civil with each other. We joined momwriters at about the same time and I remember how she roared for me onlist for an article I did shortly after my father died. She pointed out to everyone onlist that I had been under extreme duress, and I should be commended for writing about such an important topic when I was going through so much. I was so touched because it was so true and very few people then knew what I was going through and not only did she recognize it but she championed me when I was almost a complete stranger. That was just the type of person she was . . . to see the good in people and speak up. Momwriters will be different without her.
We went through a period onlist a few years back where it was just a religion war day after day. I chose to speak out once, and she chastised me for it. A day later, the spat was still going on, and she chastised me for NOT speaking out. "You made the decision to wear your faith out there for everyone to see," she said to me. "There are many young believers here who look to you as their voice, and you cannot misrepresent them that way." That was a turning point for us. Just a few months later, I had the chance to meet Bea and Bruce at the MW gathering in PA. She threw her arms up and just laughed when I introduced myself. "Oh, honey, you're just a baby yourself!" she laughed. "I was sure you were just as old as me." I didn't spend much time with Bea that day, having my young son there to chase around, but I remember watching her darling Bruce and how he doted on her. I thought it was so cute. I think Bea and I grew into a mutual admiration, being two opinionated, big-hearted people. Like Linda said, she grew so much as a writer since I've known her, and she was one of my biggest supporters. At that same time, she never held back from sending a simple "that's not called for" or "you can represent yourself better than that." I have never known having a grandmother around, and I would say that having Bea in my life was everything I would imagine a grandma to be-- sometimes drive me mad but at the end of the day know I was loved to death. Barb Huff
Here is to you Bea, you have touched many in ways you may never know. Daughter, sister, wife, mother, friend, You taught me to be strong when I fell down You are so much a part of who I am Jen in Co
I re-read her post of 2/14 and realize again her sentiments and When I bought a teapot she had advertised on her site, she took
I too was devastated to read of Bea's passing. My prayers are with her husband and son in their loss. God Bless you Bea Love
I've been busy and reading whatever posts I can manage, one thread that has had me concerned was Bea's illness. I am truly devastated to hear of Bea's passing. She ALWAYS responded to my posts offlist. She was wondefully supportive of my family when my father passed away last year. I never met her, we didn't chat on instant messenger, we barely emailed each other but I could sense her true spirit. She loved her MW's and truly cared for our families. I've been a member of this group for 5+ years and have watched and listened to everyone's lives.. my heart aches for Bruce and for Bea's son. Her voice will be missed here. Donna M. Snow, Owner
I know how I am going to honor her. She encouraged me to try earning
a living at my writing when I needed to homeschool my child. I didn't
have the courage, or believe in myself enough. She encouraged me to
submit my stuff. I have many things finished, but won't submit. She
really encouraged me to submit. I haven't done that, but will submit
one query and one fiction piece this month in honor of Bea. I think
that would make her happier than anything else I could do. She really
wanted to see me be successful.
Thank you to the moderators of this group for starting and maintaining it so that we all have the opportunity to reach out to each other. It obviously meant the world to Bea as it does to all of us. Warmly, Lynn
She certainly was special and added so much love and inspiration to
so many lives.
Farewell Bea was one of the first to send me an e-mail when my father died.
She reminded me that he was still with me in my heart, not an easy thing
to remember when you're in shock and angry your Dad is gone. Nevertheless,
it made me pause and think and that gave me what I needed to help my
entire family. In January when I announced I'd be off list due to double
pneumonia she was the first to write and say, 'Do what your doctor tells
you and rest, We had many conversations over the past years everything from writing to roof repair. One conversation changed my daughter's life. I posted to Momwriters that my daughter was having trouble in school. I thought she might be dyslexic and I didn't know what to do. Bea was there in my inbox explaining how and why I should request testing for an IEP. She said it was up to me to stand up for my daughter's right to a full education. Her words gave me the courage to march into my daughter's school and get her the help she needed. That was four years ago, I kept Bea updated on my daughter's progress and one day when my daughter was in the fourth grade I had the pleasure of sending an e-mail to Bea and telling her my daughter made the honor roll! My daughter has made the honor roll every quarter since the second quarter of 4th grade and I thank Bea for taking the time to educating me so that my daughter could get the proper instruction she needed. I will miss her popping into my inbox. I wish her God Speed. I pray that her husband and son find comfort in knowing she touched many lives; mine was one them. Linda S. Dupie
While I did not know Bea personally, there were a few times I exchanged
e-mails with her. I've always lurked onlist and found it especially
sweet that Bea would take the time out to send a reply to my rare posts.
I wish that I had gotten to know Bea the way so many of you did. My heart goes out to her husband, son and daughter-in-law. Bea will be greatly missed. Linda Bowen
I may be remembering wrong, but didn't her e-mail addy used to be "beawriter?" Be A Writer. That's been running through my head for the last couple of days, when I think of Bea. Pam, who Izzawriter, but was first told to be one ;)
There are people you always read on the list; and folks you skim. Bea was an "always read." Why? Her writing was simple, direct, profoundly whole and bright. Lucid. It didn¹t matter what she was talking about, her life, opinions, support for others, issues that we discuss, whether she was grumbling or expressing gratitude and joy, her writing had a crisp clarity to it. I admired the light in her writing. I am going to miss seeing that email addy: bts1ct. Whatever it meant, other than the letters of her name, I knew that there would be a post that was practically poetry. And while I didn't have a special relationship to her, I feel close to her, and was touched by her love for us all, her support for us as mothers and writers, and especially her commitment to honouring her gifts as a writer and her magnificent and generous gesture of always honouring all our gifts as writers. My heartfelt condolences to her husband and son. Brenda Addendum: Sorry if I offended anyone! There are days, as time allows, that I read each and every word of each and every post.
If I can do something special from France (I think his husband has some roots around here... ), just tell me. Stéphanie
After the MWCrochetMoms and I began working together on the Holiday
Kids project, I gained a great deal of admiration and respect for Bea.
I was honored to witness, first hand, this beautiful caring soul who
literally spent sleepless night worrying that needy Momwriter kids would
go without during the holidays. I would get an e-mail out of the blue
that would say, "I'm worried there won't be enough gifts for the
little boys, so I'll be sending you some matchbox cars in the morning."
Or I would open an e-mail and find that Bea had sent $1 or $2 via Paypal
because "every little bit will help the kids. I'll send more next
week." Or, I'd get a big envelope in the mail stuffed with more
crocheted hats that she had made, "just in case we come up short."
Bea was not a wealthy woman, but she always gave what she could from
her heart.
Lynette "Last of the Summer Wine" Bea you were: We remember you. Bea you enjoyed: We remember you. Summer wine brought: We remember you, always.
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