Linda Wheeler 1962 -- 2007

A few weeks ago, I mentioned that a newish friend had died. On Saturday, Robert and I attended her memorial service. The service was planned by two former partners, one of *their* former partners, and the one sister with whom she'd maintained contact. She had told many people that she had no family, and so it was a huge surprise that her other sister, the one from California, walked into the church and sat down. Her brother and parents were not in evidence.

Despite losing the connection with most of her family, Linda had created many new families, as represented by the people who attended -- workers at a Maryland newspaper; many of the staff and volunteers of WUMB, our local folk radio station; organizers of Boston's First Night; volunteers for the local affiliate of Habitat for Humanity; members of the recovery community and local lesbians; families of the former partners (she called the parents of one of these partners "mom" and "dad"); employees of our town and members of our cultural council; and a few uncategorizable people like Robert and me.

The service was at a local church, one with a lovely reputation. I was touched when the minister opened the proceedings by saying that Linda was not a church-going person, but she had become a member of the community by helping out at the church's coffee house and by attending pot lucks and yard sales. She said that she and the church were honored to provide this service for one of their own. I loved that the collective heart of the church was wide open enough to receive someone who did not attend in the traditional sense, but who was still very present.

Many people spoke and painted a complex picture of this incredible, committed, and at times, difficult, but loveable woman. We heard from her partners, from her twin sister and her husband and daughter, from people who had volunteered with her along the way, from a woman in the recovery community. We laughed a lot, but Robert also said he'd never seen so many men cry at a memorial service. The kleenexes that someone had discreetly placed in the hymnal racks were much appreciated.

Linda's first passion was apparently folk music and her second passion was every other type of music. So it was fitting that the musical interludes (which were sorely needed just for some downtime between talks) were all folk and all deeply appropriate (Pat Humphries, Cheryl Wheeler, and Judy Collins). The sound was much better than could be hoped for, thanks to another friend who attends that church. At the end, the dad of one of the partners stood and said that so many words had been spoken and he needed to express himself in music. He sat down and played Amazing Grace. I continued to weep.

Afterwards, we decided to head downstairs for the reception that the ever-present church ladies had prepared. (Thank goodness for church ladies.) We caught up with a few friends, met some new people. And then, another piece of magic. The planning committee thought it would be cool to have an actual folk singer perform. They found someone who was headed home from England that day anyways, but took an earlier plane to be there. She'd attended the service, sang three lovely songs, and stayed for the meal afterwards. And she was phenomenal.

Someone said that with Linda's organizational skills, she was probably looking on and saying "I could have done a better job than that." I don't think so. She went out with a wonderful tribute, beautifully and thoughtfully organized. We had directness, honesty, and rafts and rafts of love.