Wednesday, December 31, 2008
A note from Jim Macdonald
Jim--
Pat and I were deeply saddened to learn that Vaiva's cancer had returned and claimed her life. That disease has many sins to answer for. In recent decades we saw Vaiva only through photos and videos you occasionally shared, but I still remember the first times I met her. The very first was when you dragged her to a trust conference. What a somber, serious young women she seemed. Awfully bright, but hardly the life of the party. The second "first time" was when you brought her to see our new office space in Connecticut. I heard lilting laughter behind me and turned around. The serious young woman had vanished, replaced by a dark-haired beauty with shining eyes, twirling to smile up at her husband as they shared a private amusement.
I knew then I had been granted a glimpse of the girl you married, and the memory stuck. As several posts to myvaiva have suggested, memories do not terminate.
Pat and I are glad that Vaiva enjoyed at least a taste of grandparenthood. Adrija looks like a delightful addition to the family.
Jim Macdonald
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Graveside





Procession
At the gates of Antakalnis
Violin
A violinist played a short piece between the speakers. I have some of it on digital video, which I hope to post eventually. If anyone wants to send be a summary in the meantime, I will post that.
The speakers were focused on Vaiva's exceptional contributions to the Lithuanian nation and people, through her decade and a half working toward education reform and greater respect for teachers. Lokys then came to the front with intensely emotional and extemporaneous observations on Vaiva's concurrent role, unknown to the public, as his mother.
When no one more had anything to say, we retired to the chapel for final farewells. The violinist performed there as well.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Flowers
My Heart Goes Out to You and Your Family...
My heart goes out to you and your family for your loss. I had a knot in my stomach at hearing the news vividly remembering my visit with Mark and meeting the both of you last year.
You are in my meditation practice every morning with the hope that the pain and suffering of your loss goes away.
I feel so honored to have met you and Vaiva thru Mark....it was a impressionable visit for me and leaves a mark on my heart for having met the both of you. Especially because of your early years at MIT looking at those pictures and how you kept so close and in touch over the years...it's what life is all about and wonderful NOW that you have this circle of friends to support you NOW when you need them the most.
I also have the memory of that wonderful Krupnikas liquor Mark made 20 years ago and we all drank together. Also Vaiva sharing the Krupnikas recipe with me that Mark and I ended up making (it's a year old already) in case you run out of it and need more...According to Mark, it needs to sit a couple of more years...
So dear Jim...I hope 2009 is brighter for you and you find the strength in her loss to go on as I am sure she would want you to do...
Judy Ambrosio
Father Gintaras Vitkus
Sunday, December 28, 2008
In the chapel, before the mass

The casket is placed on a marble pedestal. All the flowers are white, because Vaiva died young, before her time. Lithuanian sashes with messages from the families, woven for the occasion, drape some of the bouquets. Many guests will drop additional stems near the casket as they pay their respects later in the morning.
Small world department: The uncle of Vaiva's brother-in-law, Father Lipniunas, was a famous pastor in this same church, arrested by the Nazis during WW II.
Vaiva arrives at St. John's Church in Vilnius
Jim's address to the mourners
September 3, 1971. Brookline, Massachusetts.
Hi, I’m Jim. I see from your nametag that you are, um, how do you say that?
Vaiva.
Well, Vaiva, what did you do with your summer?
I was a counselor at Camp Neringa in Vermont for Lithuanian children.
It may not sound like much, but it didn’t take much. Those were the first words I exchanged when I met Vaiva, and within five minutes I was in love. Irrevocably. It was a marvelous partnership. It was everything I wanted. Vaiva was the answer to my prayer.
People have asked this week, how am I doing. Many have said that words just can’t describe the loss. But I think perhaps W.H. Auden came close, when he wrote this (note that I changed the gender for the occasion):
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message She Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
She was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
So, that is how I feel, that is how I am doing.
But that is not how life goes on. That is not how Vaiva responded to grief. Instead, she would redouble her efforts and charge forward.
The first a.p.p.l.e.-sponsored summer courses happened in 1991. That was the year Russian tanks were unleashed against Lithuanians holding hands at the television tower. Reflecting on the successes and failures of that year, Vaiva wrote:
With the creation of a.p.p.l.e. we’ve stepped out onto a tightrope. Sometimes everything that came before seems like a different life entirely. As a Lithuanian-American, I always felt lucky to have a strong sense of community and purpose. Yet everything is topsy turvy now. No longer must a feeling of obligation animate our decisions. Lithuania is free, and so are we. The choice of involvement, of commitment, is personal in a new sense. If we freely undertake creative work with and for Lithuania, then our choices must have consequences on two continents.
Vaiva accomplished so many things during her remarkable but abbreviated life. But her most important gift to us was this: through the example of her life, and through the obligations she imposed, she made each of us be the very best that we could be.
During her last weeks, Vaiva lost some of her lucidity, as the cancer entered her brain. She began to refer to dead people, notably her aunt and her mother, as if they were alive, as if they were nearby. After one such comment, I asked Vaiva if she knew where her mother was. She started to cry, and she said that močiute was in heaven, and Lijole was in heaven. Later she returned to referring to them calmly, as if they were nearby.
I like to believe that she felt their presence because they had come to escort her into her next life.
Hartford services
Much later, when I mentioned this problem to my family, my mother asked, “You didn’t realize that winter was coming?” Without missing a beat, I answered, “I was told there would be global warming.” (In truth, we left the bucket on to bring in felled wood for our wood stove.)
Anyway, dawn was breaking by 7, which is when the three photos posted below were taken. We were on our way by 7:45, but with the poor road conditions we missed our 8:30 target at the Dillon-Baxter funeral home by about 10 minutes.
Vaiva was dressed in her national costume, with the jewels she wore at our wedding.
Many more people had been able to get to the funeral home that morning. So greetings that might have been spread over couple hours the day before were condensed into just half an hour.
After the funeral director Gerry Baxter led us in the Lord’s Prayer, the casket was closed and we left for Holy Trinity. We were greeted there by the pall bearers and a group of attendants in national costume. A Lithuanian priest had been driven to Hartford from Boston [I need to get the names from Sigita to insert here].
The church was almost half full, surprising given the poor weather conditions. It was a very nice service, entirely in Lithuanian, so I didn’t understand anything. If anyone sends me a summary of the homily I will post it.
Afterwards the funeral director took Vaiva for shipping to Lithuania, and the rest of us retired to the hall in Holy Trinity’s basement. As noted below, Sigita had arranged for the Lithuanian women to provide a pot luck luncheon, and we had additional eulogies for Vaiva. I will post the thoughts that I shared momentarily.
My father, mother, brother Bob and sister Jolene had flown in from Minneapolis for the sad occasion. My other sister Karen had tried to be with us but a variety of factors interfered. The kids and I spent the rest of the afternoon with them at their hotel at Bradley airport.
As noted earlier, we flew to Lithuanian the next day, Sunday, after a neighbor helped pull our van out up our icy driveway. Vaiva was shipped to Lithuania on Monday.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Post funeral luncheon
a speech from Vytas Maciūnas, Vaiva's successor as head of Bendroumenė (the Lithuanian-American Community). Also
Gita Kupčinskas, Vaiva's lifelong friend from childhood in New Haven, spoke about the creation and success of the American Professional Partnership for Lithuanian Education.
If the speakers send me their speeches, I will post them. I spoke, and I will post my remarks tomorrow. Elona concluded the proceedings with the poem posted below and a song.
Hartford photos
The procession to the front of the church was led by people in national costumes.
In addition, we had pall bearers, whose main duty was moving the casket in and out of the church.
Vaiva's last e-mail to the President's Office
From: „Vaiva Vėbra“ vrvebra@aol.com
To: “Jurgita Montrimaite” jurgita.montrimaite@president.lt
Sent: Friday, October 03, 2008 6:09 PM
Subject: RE: Miela Vaiva
Miela Jurgita,
Labai norėjau ir tikėjausi parašyti su geromis naujienomis, bet nepasisekė. Intensyviai gydžiausi nuo paplitusio vėžio nuo 2007 m. rugsėjo mėn. Praėjus pusei metų ir daktarai sakė, kad būklė visai nebloga, tik reikia atsigauti nuo chemoterapijos. Tada jau atėjo vasara. Nutariau pailsėti, mane čia aplankė vaikai ir anūkė iš Lietuvos. Džiaugiausi vasara, mylėjau vaikus, keliavome, įsigijom šuniuką, o rugpjūčio gale ir vėl diagnozė ant rudens.
Porą mėnesių jau leidžia chemo. Deja, kur kas sunkiau nei prieš metus. Už poros savaičių bus kartojami tyrimai, tada bus sprendžiama arba kitokia chamo, arba chirurgija, arba skirtingas chemo, arba abu vienas po kito, ko aš ir norėčiau.
Tik vieną žinau – jei keliems mėnesiams iš eilės paleis, kaip anksčiau (sužinojau 2008 m. kovo gale), mausiu iš karto į Lietuvą, nelauksiu (kaip šį pavasarį) „patogesnio laiko“ išskristi. Man norėjosi susitarti dėl tolimesnių planų akis į akį. Miela Jurgita, gal padėsit atnaujinti popierius dar sykį? Kasdien seku žinias, palaikau, prašau perduokite šilčiausius linkėjimus grupei ir kancleriui, ir aišku, pagal galimybes, Prezidentui.
Jūsų visų Vaiva
From Audronė Skripkus
Mieli Evaldai, Aristidai ir Silvija,
Tik ką sužinojom iš Aro apie Vaivos mirtį. Tikrai liūdna netekus tokios energingos ir darbščios moters. Visuomenėje kas nors kitas užims jos vietą, tačiau Jums brangios Sesės jau niekas nepamainys.
Siunčiu savo šeimos, Mamytės Gražinos, brolių Egidijaus, Vaidžio, Leono, Vytauto, Algimanto ir sesers Daivos Valaičių gilią užuojautą su viltimi, kad visi susitiksim pas Gerąjį Dievulį.
Audronė Skripkus
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Prayers for your family
I read the news of Vaiva's illness and passing with great sorrow. You and your family have been in my thoughts and prayers very much on this Christmas Eve and Christmas Day as you led Vaiva to her rest in Lithuania. May the many tributes, prayers, and memories that have been shared so movingly on your blog bring you peace and every consolation. Your writing in the blog is not only a tribute to Vaiva's many accomplishments as an educator and statesman but also a tender witness to the love and devotion in your marriage and family.
I remember our time together dancing for Vetra in New Haven in the mid-1980s with great fondness. In my graduate school years, Vetra was indeed my extended family. I knew Vaiva was destined to do great things for her homeland even back then, when Lithuanian independence seemed like a very distant dream. I am grateful for our friendship during these years.
Since 1989, I have lived in Madison, Wisconsin, where I work for a biotechnology company. My wife, Irene, and I joined a local Lithuanian dance group, Zaibas, and we performed at the 1992 Svente in Chicago. Irene and I had the chance to say hello to Vaiva during rehearsal, and that was the last time I was in touch with her.
It is my sincere hope that you will be in touch when you can find the time. Our families have some striking parallels: Irene and I are also dog lovers (two miniature poodles make up our household); Irene practiced Trust and Estate law here in Madison and now teaches at UW-Madison (she is a devoted and accomplished educator); and we have begun our own anxious journey in treating a recently discovered cancer (Irene was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in October).
With deepest sympathy,
Ray Bandziulis
Madison, Wisconsin
Merry Christmas
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
We are back from the second funeral
I've tried to keep the blog very positive, focused on the happiness in Vaiva's life. I'm not ducking the cancer, but I'm not dwelling on it either.
Similarly, I'm not sure how much detail is really appropriate about the funerals. It's a time for remembrance, not a time one wants to remember. Still, I expect that Vaiva's many friends who could not be present for the ceremonies would like to know more, so I will post on them. I will include photos also, but can't at the moment because I left my Sony proprietary connection cable in Durham, attached to my desktop. We're shopping for a new one Friday.
I will mention these three details:
• President Adamkus laid a bouquet of white flowers draped with the Lithuanian colors at the foot of Vaiva's casket.
• My children failed to stand to shake the President's hand. I was shocked, he wasn't.
• Gabrielius Landsbergis-Žemkalnis gave an unscheduled and lovely eulogy. Seven people spoke in the church after the funeral (including him), three spoke at the grave. We have video of most of the speeches, which I will have Aras summarize for me.
That's as much as I can do for now. I could not sleep at all last night, it was my first such insomnia since Vaiva's death. I hope it is the last.
Now it's time to begin preparing Kučios.
From Zina Zabulis
| Dear Jim and Family, Please accept our deepest sympathy for the loss of Vaiva. We were stunned to hear of her passing. It doesn't seem that long ago that we were collecting signatures, travelling to Washington, spending long nights at the Lithuanian Resource Center. She was truly a remarkable woman and we are blessed to have had her in our lives. Romas and Zina (Dreslius) Zabulis and family | |
From Vincent Pleckaitis
| [Note: This was posted to the Dillon-Baxter guest book for Vaiva on December 19. ] I want to extend my condolences to you and your children. I never got to know Vaiva as well as my brother Tom. But I've known her since she was 5 years old. Her Grandmother used to visit at my mom's house quite often and she always had Vaiva with her. She always amazed me at how intelligent she was at that young age. I will miss her as much as the Lithuanian community will for all the good she has accomplished. A truly remarkable women. You and your loved ones will be remembered in my prayers. | |
| Vincent Pleckaitis |
From Ray and Barbara Clow
| [Note: This was posted to the Dillon-Baxter guest book for Vaiva on December 18. Ray and Barbara were members of the Vetra Lithuanian Folk Dance Group when Vaiva was leading it.] Dear Jim and Family, We loved and admired Vaiva for all that she did. She was such a wonderful instructor to us in Vetra. Our sincere sympathy to you and your family. Raymond & Barbara Clow Cedar Park, TX | |
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
condolences
I would like to extend my condolences to you and your children. I am sure there are no words that can ease the pain and sorrow of missing Vaiva. But it may be of some comfort to know that I am sure that everyone in the Lithuanian community mourns with you. She was one of Lithuania's brightest stars here on earth. Now she is in the Heavens watching the sparks she has transferred to her children and the children who benefited from her educational programs she was involved in.
Deepest sympathy,
Jonas Pleckaitis
PS I am attaching some photos from New Haven CT Mass deportations to Siberia
I've been faking it
So it's not that I had to be a single parent with small children that made it hard, it was just the separation from Vaiva. I still remember driving to Newark Airport to pick her up on her return, thinking the whole time about whether I should just get a nearby hotel room for the afternoon.
I did not know then that absences would become annual events, eventually to become much longer when Vaiva began working for the Ministry of Education, and later for President Adamkus.
Over the years I developed an alternative emotional state of being, the "Vaiva is absent" state. I would change little household things, especially in the kitchen, to match my idiosyncrasies instead of hers. The daily routine was different. This emotional state was filled with zen-like patience and waiting, but not loneliness.
I realized last week that I had retreated into that emotional state, as a protective shell, in order to function at all after Vaiva's death. I mentioned it to Sirvydas. Rationally, I'm glad that Vaiva has been released from the pain and suffering of her last illness. Emotionally, I'm still in denial, I cannot bring myself to believe that she is really gone.
Arriving in Vilnius yesterday brought this into sharper focus. I've never been here without her. I never imagined that there could be a reason to be here without her. Our bedroom in Riese was as she left it, expecting to return to it once she was well enough to travel.
This is so terribly sad.
Now, snow in Vilnius
I almost had a Moscow on the Hudson moment at the grocery. That's the film from 1984 featuring Robin Williams as a musician defecting from the Soviet Union in New York City. The film was notable for its realistic portrayal of shortages of consumer goods under communism, and the fact that when one saw a line of people, one joined the line first and asked what it was for after. The Robin Williams character is fascinated by everything he sees in America, and then he goes to a grocery store. He wanders among the aisles until he sees the shelves laden with ground coffee. Muttering "coffee . . . coffee . . . coffee . . ." he is overcome by the enormity of this abundance and faints dead away.
Vaiva and I loved that film. We first traveled to Lithuania in 1980, when the communists still ruled, though cracks were already evident. I still remember, and may have the photographic evidence, of the butcher store we entered that had display cases that were empty save for a dozen or so chicken feet.
I looked around the Maxima, with its extravagent abundance worthy of any western grocery, the crowd of shoppers preparing for the Christmas holiday, listening to Billy Joel and other American pop tunes from the 80s playing in the background, and I wondered. How many of them remember what it was like just one generation ago? They have all come so far, so fast.
Word is that the casket arrived in Warsaw 2 hours late, but it is on its way now. It should arrive about 2 am. We will be leaving at 6:30 am to begin the final farewell to Vaiva, which is supposed to be completed by noon, when Christmas Eve begins.
Redwoods
Monday, December 22, 2008
uzuojauta
Tik laikas gydo nuo netekties skausmo. Kartu su visais melsiuosi už Jos sielą.
Su pagarba,
--
Regina Kaušienė,
A.P.P.L.E. draugijos narė
Lietuva
Gone From My Sight
Gone From My Sight
by Henry Van Dyke
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone"
Gone where?
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined
port.
Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"
And that is dying...
My condolences
I just got the news of Vaiva's passing via Stew Roberts. My heart
and my prayers go out to you and your family at this sorrowful time.
We are in Riese
The weather continues to confound. I was told that after the mass for Vaiva last week, the Vilnius roads were impassably icy for three days. On our trip, Warsaw was gray and rainy, as was Vilnius when we arrived. We drove home at 3:30 local time, but it was already getting dark--it's the winter solstice, and we are well north of Connecticut.
I'm starting to catch up on postings for the blog
Wild ride
We took a chance and tried to get out of our driveway without plowing. Not only did we not get out, we put the car in the snowbank and couldn’t move it. Thankfully Sirvydas was able to call his friend Eric Mueller, who came with his father and their 4-wheel drive truck. It was a lot of work, but finally he was able to tow us up out of our driveway.
That driveway will be a real treat on the way home.
Driving to Tom Pleckaitis’ home in Woodbridge was also a white knuckle ride, because although the roads weren’t terrible the traction control on the van was. I felt like I was on an ice rink the whole time.
So we switched to his wife’s SUV for the rest of the trip to JFK. There was only the ordinary traffic from there on in. We’re at the gate now, with boarding in ½ hour. After a rocky start, things are looking smoother.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
A Carriage of Beauty and Grace
|
Lithuania is admitted to NATO
Vaiva was with the VIPs, I was with the rest of the rabble and the press. Ironically, I had the better view, as the VIPs were off to the side.
This photo of us was taken by Asta Banonis after the ceremony was concluded, in a section of the White House grounds normally off limits to the public.
No funeral notes today
Blogging will resume when we get to Riese, the suburb north of Vilnius where Vaiva built her house.
Vaiva's final Kučios
She was in the middle of successful taxol chemo regimen at this time. The tumor had disappeared, but they continued the medication, so she was weak.
The red stuff in the middle of the table we called "Christmas cod," because Vaiva always but only made it for Kučios (Christmas Eve, when Lithuanians eat 12 foods for the 12 Apostles and no meat). I believe the cod is lightly fried, then smothered in onions and tomato sauce and baked. It was our favorite.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Just got back
I started to think about commenting on the day's events, but there's too much and I'm just beat. So let me just say thank you to everyone we saw today, a special thank you to those who spoke after the funeral, and above all, my eternal gratitude to Elona Vaisnys and Sigita Simkus-Rosen for organizing everything and lifting so, so much from my shoulders.
Tomorrow I get to thank Tom Pleckaitis for being my chauffer to the airport.
More in the morning.
Remembrances
Friday, December 19, 2008
Adventures in winter driving
In death, Vaiva resembles her mother, and her aunt, more than she did in life.
What can I say, it was terribly sad. I haven't nearly come to terms with it. So Vaiva--or the god of weather--seems to have given me a new task to take my mind off of it.
Driving home started out quicker, because I91 was plowed, if not cleared. Traffic was by then light, and we could maintain 35 mph steadily. However, the roads in Durham had had much less attention, and the snowfall had reached 6 to 8 inches. I tried the usual approach to our home twice, losing traction on the hill both times. As I backed down after the second attempt, I inadvertently put one back tire partly into the snowbank, getting the car quite stuck. Fortunately, Lokys was able to push the front end back out into the road, and we proceeded to an alternate, longer approach that is less steep. With some difficulty, we careened up the mile long incline and made it safely home.
I was just able to get down the driveway, but now I have a huge job to do in the morning. The driveway must be plowed before we drive out, which takes an hour, and we have to leave by about 7:45 to be at the funeral home by 8:30. You do the math.
Just like I had to plow it out for the major snowfall when Senelis died.
We're off to the wake
Additional hours for the wake
My mistake
The collage
This first one includes Vaiva's girlhood, her mother, father and aunt Lijole. The top right is a shot I took during her freshman year at MIT. Under it is a bedroom shot after our first son, Aras, was born.
In the center are photos of Vaiva's half sister and two half brothers in Lithuania. Along the bottom we have scenes from our family life, including the dance rehearsal for the Toronto Svente.
The collection below includes a signature template for the "Free Lithuania Now" petition, asking Bush I and our Congress to support the Baltic states quest to leave the Soviet Union. I believe that she collected about 120,000 signatures by sending the template to Lithuanians all over the U.S. We had a photo of her presenting the petition to Senator Robert Dole, but I haven't seen it in years I'm afraid.
We also display Volume 1, Number 1 of Report to the Corps, Vaiva's communication to her A.P.P.L.E. friends and supporters.
We have photos of activism, a.p.p.l.e. leadership, and our wedding. In the center is a photo of Vaiva with granddaughter Adrija and President Adamkus.
I just realized that we didn't include anything from Vaiva's final year. I suppose that's because I remember it, and these are from longer ago.
Six degrees of separation
That sounds preposterous, but let's spin it out a bit. Everyone who knows Vaiva is just two steps away from her current employer, President Adamkus. So you are pretty close to the entire government of Lithuania.
But did you know that when President Bush visited Lithuania in 2002, Vaiva was chosen to be his translator? In some U.S. news coverage of the event, one could make out her voice at the public event in Vilnius. She was also present for most of the private meetings in Lithuania. Thus, you are also two degrees from President Bush, two degrees from Laura Bush, and three degrees from the entire Bush cabinet and the U.S. Congress! Not to mention the rest of the world's leaders.
Vaiva really enjoyed that translating duty. She got it because she had free-lanced as a translator for the U.S. State Department for many years, and was certified to do simultaneous translation. Recently she commented that in the private meetings Bush was very smart and far better informed on matters large and small than she expected. A far cry from the image the press gave him.
Although there may be much to dislike about the Bush Presidency, in our household his visit to Lithuania trumped all else, and the choice of Vaiva to translate was frosting on the cake.
BTW, Vaiva loved her translating work because she met so many diverse and fascinating people from Lithuania here on sponsored visits. For the most part these were related to her education interests, but once she got to translate for people from the Lithuanian secret service here for advanced terrorist training. That made for great war stories.
Cruising Alaska in 2005
My parents have enjoyed cruising in their retirement, as so many retirees do. In September 2005 my father brought all his children and their spouses along on a cruise to Alaska, something Vaiva and I could never afford given that we were in the midst of the college years for our own kids. It was a tremendous experience for all of us.
These are my two favorite photos from that trip, though neither touches on Alaska's beauty. As you can see, one evening the dinner was formal.



