Gita's comments at the December memorial for Vaiva

When I was invited to lead you in song for this gathering to commemorate one year since Vaiva‘s death, I found it to be a very easy undertaking. Remembering Vaiva in song is quite natural for me, not because Vaiva herself was a great singer, but because she loved Lithuanian songs. Certainly, songs were a big part of the experiences I shared with Vaiva. I knew right away which songs I wanted to sing with you today.

The earliest songs Vaiva and I shared were learned when we were little girls attending Camp Immaculata, run by the sisters in Putnam, CT. We were part of that lucky generation who learned their songs from the older campers as we sat around a bonfire late into the evening. Many of those songs expressed a longing for Lithuania; many of them were based on remembrances. The irony was that neither Vaiva nor I had ever seen Lithuania ourselves, but the songs made us feel as if we had. „O atsimenu namelį“ captures this longing for the homestead where mother sang lullabies that urged the child to grow up to serve God and country. I am sure Vaiva felt that call in her life.

Some of the songs we sang at camp were associated with the Lithuanians who had been exiled to Siberia. „Leiskit į tėvynę“ captures that longing to return to Lithuania, again a place we had never been.

Whenever we had an event at St. Casimir‘s church in New Haven, whenever the Lithuanian community gathered in the hall for a dinner or a commemoration, eventually a song would break out spontaneously, and the singing would begin. A favorite among the men was the beautiful „Kaip aras pašautas.“ Most of us just called it „Aras.“ What a feeling that was to stand beside the group of men with their powerful voices and to listen to the sad and haunting words of this song. I wonder if it was this song that inspired Vaiva and Jim to name their first child Aras.

Later, songs became very much a part of our A.P.P.L.E. experience. With Jim‘s suggestion for the inspired name, A.P.P.L.E., we were able to do so much with the symbolism of the apple as the gift to the teacher. So we brought our gifts to the teachers of Lithuania. A song which became somewhat of an anthem for our organization was „Šių naktelį, per naktelį,“ a song that had become popular during the large demonstrations which marked the Lithunian independence movement. It speaks of planting apple trees, a symbol of our hopes for the work we were doing in Lithuania.

How often the opening ceremonies and the closing ceremonies of our A.P.P.L.E. seminars would end up in singing. The whole audience would stand up, throw thier arms around each other, and start singing and swaying together. Very often the song which inspired this show of emotion was the simple little melody „Žemė Lietuvos.“

This would have been a great conclusion for our sing-along today, but I have to share another moment of song. Vaiva was the leader of the Lithuanian folk dance group Vėtra. I directed the Lithuanian folk ensemble Sodauto. I have wonderful memories of the many years that we celebrated Joninės, St. John‘s Eve, at the Vėbra-Gust homestead together. Those were also nights by the bonfire, filled with singing, dancing, and magic. Eventually, we would get around to singing one of my group‘s favorite melodies „Oi, aisiu, aisiu.“ This was a song of longing and farewell that expressed the young bride‘s wish to go back home. We often sing it as a last farewell.

Finally, I come full circle to those early bonfires, those summer nights of our youth. „Ramios, malonios vasaros naktys“ is a song which captures the passion of a young heart. Truly, Vaiva lived her life passionately. She gave herself wholeheartedly to all that was important to her. The words of this song express the desire to embrace the world, to love God, and to reach eternal beauty. This is my wish for Vaiva today, that she has reached eternal beauty.


Vaiva prisimenant . . .

O atsimenu namelį, tą gimtinį savo,
Kur motulė prie lopšelio supdama liūliavo.
Ir dainelė ta lopšinė, ta daina motulės
Ir šiandieną man ausyse skamba čiūčia liūlia.
Čiūčia liūlia, mažutėli, auk greičiau, užauki,
Ir Dievulis ir tėvynė tavęs jauno laukia.
Kai išklystu į pasaulį platų, begalinį,
Tėviškėlės atminimas man laimužę mini.
Kai į saulę pasižiūriu, vakaro saulužę,
Man ji primena, kaip gyvą, mylimą mamužę.
Ir kasdien regiu tą kaimą, tą namelį savo,
Kur gyvenimo palaima man lopšy liūliavo.

      

Leiskit į tėvynę, leiskit pas savus,
Ten pradžiugs krūtinė, atgaivins jausmus.
Pirm negu aušrelė skaisti užtekės,
Ten mano dainelė linksmai suskambės.
Čia jausmai man žuvo, kaliny širdis,
Leiskit į Lietuvą, akys ten nušvis . . .
Svetima padangė, nemaloni, ne.
Tėviškėlę brangią vis regiu sapne.

      

Kaip aras, pašautas ir blaškomas vėjo,
Toli nuo tėvynės randuos.
Tik vieną maldauju: O Viešpatie geras,
Leisk numirt bent tėvynės krantuos. 
Kaip būdavo gera po liepom šakotom
Nuvargusią galvą priglaust.
Ir rytą auksinį rasotom palankėm
Nubrist ligi pačio dangaus. 
Upeliai tekėjo, miškeliai šlamėjo
Kur aš mažutėlis gimiau.
Tie patys upeliai, miškai, uogienojai,
Tik mes—nebe tie, nebe tie . . . 

      

Šių naktelį, per naktelį nemigau, nemigau.
Su brolaliu obelėlį sadinau, sadinau.
Prigyk, prigyk, obelėla, valyvai, valyvai.
Nokink savo obuolėlius raudonai, raudonai.


Aš priskinsiu obuolėlių raudonų, raudonų,
Ir nunešiu mergužėlei dovanų, dovanų.
Mergužėle, lelijėle, kur buvai, kur buvai,
Kad šių naktį jaunimėly nebuvai, nebuvai?
Šių naktelį, per naktelį nemigau, nemigau.
Su brolaliu obelėlį sadinau, sadinau.

      

Tu tokia brangi, žemė mūs gimta.
Tau mintis šviesi, tau širdy vieta.
Žemėj Lietuvos ąžuolai žaliuos.
Ąžuolai žaliuos žemėj Lietuvos. 
Tu tokia maža ir tokia didi,
Nemuno vaga Lietuvos širdy.
Žemė Lietuvos . . .
Ar diena dienos, ar naktelė tems,
Duok mums šilumos, duonos ir vandens.
Žemė Lietuvos . . .

      

Oi aisiu, aisiu aš čia nebūsiu,
Brisiu per upį, per Dunojėlį.
Per Dunojėlį laiveliu plauksiu,
Per žalių girių paukšteliu skrisiu.
Oi aisiu, aisiu aš čia nebūsiu,
Brisiu per upį, per žalių girių.

      

Ramios, malonios vasaros naktys;
Medžio užmigęs nejuda lapas.
Viskas nutilo, viskas nurimo,
Vienos tik žvaigždės mirkčioja, dega.

Viskas užmigo, viskas nurimo;
Žemę apsupo meilės svajonės.
Neša jos sielą, neša, liūliuoja,
Ilgesio pilnos ir įkvėpimo.

Noris apimti visą pasaulį;
Noris mylėti Dievą aukščiausią.
Noris pasiekti amžiną grožį . . .
Ko gi taip liūdna? Ko gi taip ilgu? 

"Vaiva prisimenant..."

At our memorial in Hartford, Gita spoke of growing up with Mama, singing, and so she suggested that we remember Mama through song.

Mama perceived Lithuanian songs as deeply textured, as having weave in time and space. We are the “singing culture,” and songs connect us into a single force. We are one people seeking to give and receive solace from each other. When a large group sings at the same time, it is a collective meditation.

Memorial in Vilnius

On Monday, December 14th, Mama's colleagues and I went to the grave at three o'clock. Some other people did too, and some had gone the day before. A memorial service was held at 5:30 and after that we watched the movie my father made. As I explained at the grave site in an ad hoc speech, I was not the one to organize the events. The difference between the 364th and 365th days is lost on me, but I'm glad that if others can get something out of it, they are kind enough to organize it for all.

I didn't mention at the time that I see her birthday as a far more appropriate day to gather and "remember" her (as if we didn't day dream about her daily). We're planning to start the tradition this coming summer.

The service was attended by many indeed, we were all surprised to see about a hundred people; nobody told a lot of people about it, but I guess each person passed it on to a couple more. President Adamkus was there in addition to most of the relatives off the top of my head, all of the colleagues I can think of and many I didn't recognize.


Afterward we watched the movie in the Jesuit high school joined to the church through back hallways. I had decided with only a few hours left to translate my father's speech and Whitman's poem; I wish I had had time to rehearse it more, but people told me I did well. It was a big hit: people were surprised that the movie was so well made, and many asked for copies of it.

My introduction to the DVD about Vaiva

At one time I had hoped to have a stirring address for Vaiva's memorial service.  I thought I might talk about carrying on her work, or my difficulties in coming to terms with her death, or something.  I was not able to do that.  Creating the photo essays was hard enough, something I kept putting off, but did finally finish.


Rather than the speech I hoped for, I simply explained the source for the name of the blog, then called for the DVD to be played.


December 6, 2009

Memorial service for Vaiva Radasta Vebra

Holy Trinity Church, Hartford, Connecticut

Introduction by James B. Gust

Thank you all for coming today, and thank you Sigita and everyone else who worked so hard to make this happen. 

When I started the blog for remembering Vaiva a year ago, I called it “Vaiva, my Vaiva.” The title was a conscious allusion to the Walt Whitman poem, “O Captain, my Captain,” from “Leaves of Grass.” That poem was about Abraham Lincoln, how he had steered the ship of state safely through the civil war, but was assassinated at the war’s successful conclusion.

Much the same sentiment, I thought, applied to Vaiva. Both as to how she contributed to the success of Lithuania’s re-emergence as an independent state, and her role for me. In addition to being a wife, mother, lover and friend, Vaiva was the hero of my life.

Here is Whitman’s poem.

O Captain! My Captain!

1 O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!	5
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
2 O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;	10
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,	15
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
3 My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;	20
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

I’ve prepared nine short meditations on Vaiva, and put them into a single 35-minute video. You’ll know it’s over when you see my name on the screen.

Speakers

Audience

Program

After the Mass, 100 or  so people gathered in the church basement.  A screen was set up, with a DVD projector, for the program I had created.

Metinės Lietuvoje

Mišios už aa. Mamą vyks gruodžio 14d.(pirmadienį), 17.30 val. Šv. Kazimiero bažnyčioje.

Per/po mišių, mūsų geras šeimos draugas Alvydas prižadėjo bandyti paleisti DVD, kurį mano tėvas sukūrė: tai bus tėvo kalba per metines Amerikoje ir 35 minučių klipų bei nuotraukų kompozicija su įgarsinimu.

Mielai kviečiame visus.

The Memorial Mass

Note the national flags by the altar.

Music before Vaiva's Mass

The wonderful singers came from a Lithuanian parish in South Boston, I believe it is St. Peter's.

Snow day

The view out the kitchen window when I got up this morning.

Just as with the funeral last year, snow would be a factor for Vaiva's Memorial  Mass.

Lokys, Liepa and Teddy scraped off the car.

 

The sun is just getting up, you can see the moon above the apple tree.

Memorial Mass today

As Vaiva's Memorial Mass is today, you might have guessed that it snowed last night, the first accumulation of the season. I don't expect the snow to be a problem, it's just a couple inches.

I have the photo montage ready for the program.  Finished it at about 11 last night, took until 2 am to burn DVDs of it.  I'm burning some spares this morning.  Here are the chapters:

Remembrance
The Immigrants
M.I.T.
First Contact
Twins Arrive
Vaiva's C.V.
In Country
At Home
Life After Cancer—One More  Moment


The DVD  runs 35 minutes.  Two of those chapters are videos that I made some time ago, and Lokys points out they drag in spots.  I agree, but it was not practical to edit them at this point.

I scanned about 60 old photos, which I will add to the blog over the next month.