McCabe Funeral Home

During my last visit with Suzanne, I was asked how I met her. I couldn’t remember, and it was driving me crazy trying to figure out why I couldn’t. I think I know now. Growing up, I wanted to be just like Jacqulyn Kennedy someday. Her poise, dignity, strength, courage, quiet grace, empathy & love for others were traits I though made the epitome of a good person. At some point in time, Suzanne was a hands-on example of how those traits functionally work in a person’s life. To be around her was to be around true human compassion, grace, dignity, strength & love. To top it off, her humility knew no bounds. I sometimes wonder if Suzanne ever knew how beautiful she really is, inside and out. Hopefully she knows it now, and feels the energy inside this room that is so full of love, respect and admiration of the remarkable person she was. In those last few months, Suzanne’s courage, strength, grace & love were ever more apparent and crystal clear. So concerned was she with the welfare & feelings of others – moreso it seemed than with her own. Every phone call, every visit I had with her during those times, never once did I walk away feeling like everything wasn’t going to be “okay”. In fact, I think I’m a little perturbed by that – and I’m going to have to say something to her about that when we see each other again. ? But, being who she is, I know she’ll tell me that she knew how much I had on my own plate and “just didn’t want me to worry”. Her artwork, to me, is exactly who Suzanne was, especially her beautiful paintings of flowers. Flowers to me are the symbols of everything right in this world – of love, friendship, strength although appearing fragile, poise, delicacy. All the different colors she used symbolizing all the different relationships in her life – all meaning so much to her, and all made to be painted beautifully. And thanks to her, we will always have these beautiful pieces to remind us of what is right in this world, what is beautiful, and to remember the person that brought us those reminders. Suzanne & Rich’s relationship – what a joyful, loving experience to be around, to watch. To watch her & Rich’s devotion, protection, love & support for one another was a beautiful example to me of how human’s are SUPPOSED to be, and how they’re supposed to interact with one another. I have often thought to both of them, individually & collectively when dealing with my own situations in life. I know I am a better person today because of having Suzanne in my life. I thank her for that. I can’t remember when I met her, because I’ve always known her – she is the epitome of so much of what I still want to be. I think I’m going to have to work a little harder at it – as she made it seem so easy. It’s just who she was. I love you Suzanne. I admire you. I respect you. Thank you for your friendship, for your love and for allowing me a small portion of your life. Treasured precious gifts that will remain with me always. I will miss you.

how reserved Suz was when I first met her. She was eminently pleasant, but cautious. It seemed she did not want to give her heart too easily in friendship. Yet there was an underlying mischieviousness that sparked in me an interest in getting to know her better. And I am so very, very, very grateful I did! These several years--too short--of shared art, books, and good food, have been such a blessing in my life. Others have mentioned her grace and dignity. I must mention her courage. Faced with her cancer diagnosis, she was determined to put as positive a face on her experience as possible. She did this, perhaps too well. Only those very close and present at the end were aware how rapidly she was slipping away; to others who interacted with her by phone and letters, she was ever cheerful and upbeat. Suz was, indeed, a model for so many of her friends: humble, generous, loving, witty, caring, impish, intelligent, spiritual, very concerned with her family, and madly in love with her soulmate Rich. She considered herself blessed, but was so much more a blessing to others. I am humbled and awed that she opened up her heart and her life to me and called me "friend." And while I believe with all my being that we are eternally connected, I am missing her so very much!

Sister. My beautiful sister Suzanne. Lovely, gracious, endearing, caring, selfless, dedicated, talented, poised, gorgeous. I think to describe her there just aren't enough words in the dictionary. As I spoke to my husband, Paul, the other evening, it occurred to me that everyone who spoke about Suzanne had similar nuances about her. Not surprising. Anyone who was a part of her life knew her extraordinary ability to make everone elses life beautiful. She was genuiely charismatic and her nurturing ways comforted the soul. I've never in my life met at more selfless person. The courage and strength she showed through her 7 month struggle with cancer was unreal to me. If anyone deserved a purple heart for bravery it was Suzanne. Her boundries in life had now barriers. She showed this through her love to her wonderful husband Rich, as well as through her paintings. Gorgeous eyes, beautiful body, and lovely hair were all part of the unique shell that made up Suzanne. The inner being of Suzanne is what made that shell come to life and spawn this europhic being who became so dear to all of us. My sister Suzanne put love into everything she did. Two of her greatest ambitions and accomplishments were her fabulous devotions to cooking and art. I'll never forget her classic theme-based brunches. Walking into her home, it would sometimes smell like a breakfast delight while other times the aroma lent itdself to a delcious mexican fiesta. Fabulous food and the best company! Food, put aside, Suzanne's paintings were unistakabley a part of her that will live on forever. Her grace and talent excedded all limits and her delicate hands, filled with love, made every stroke of her paintings full of live and happiness. Lastly, I'd like to express my gratidutde to my sister, Suzanne, for comforting me when my beautiful mom was sick. I'm so lucky to still have her around and it was great to have Suzanne aroung to talk to during that painful time. Suzanne played a huge role in my life that can never be replaced. I love you Suzanne. Sisters. Forever. Jackie

The List in My Heart By Marc Enfroy (Suzanne’s brother) Delivered February 25, 2006 at Suzanne’s Memorial Service My sister Suzanne and I became closer than ever during the last years of her life. For me, being with her was like watching the sun slowly rise over the water: serene, beautiful, soothing. I will forever remember the many healing and tranquil moments I spent in her presence. Suzanne liked to keep lists and so in her honor, I am keeping a list of things she taught me. The list will never be crossed off or completed and I don’t need to write it down to remember it. I will carry this list with me for the rest of my life, safely within my heart. First, be calm. Suzanne had a peace about her, especially later in life. During her most difficult chapter, she was composed and dignified. Not once did I hear her lose her temper or complain. Even on her worst days, when I knew she was really hurting, I would ask her, “How are you doing?” and she would reply, “I’m hangin’ in there.” Her second day in home hospice care, I was alone with her for the better part of the day. She was losing the ability to walk but was determined to get out of bed and so I helped her. When it later came time to get back in bed, her legs gave out quickly and despite my efforts, she ended up on the floor. Visibly shaken, exhausted, and out of breath, Suzanne said in a very matter of fact voice, “I guess I’ll just have to sit on the floor for a while.” I sat down next to her, held her hand and laid my head on hers. That was her last time out of bed. It was that sort of calm under tremendous adversity that I will always admire about Suzanne. Second, be gracious. Suzanne was a genuinely thankful person. I often heard her say to me and others, “Thank you so much, “ and you knew she really meant it. Her quiet congeniality and warm smile endeared her to family, friends, and even those who barely knew her. The nurses on her floor fought over who would get to take care of Suzanne. Her hospice social worker, Sybil, met with Suzanne only twice, and could not recall anyone impacting her so deeply in such a short amount of time. She was always concerned about others’ feelings, never wanting to hurt or offend. I cannot think of anyone more interested in peoples’ feelings than Suzanne. Third, embrace everyone. My sister loved all sorts of people. She loved them despite their flaws, she loved them regardless of belief or creed, she loved them without strings attached. Suzanne was never concerned if someone didn’t fit a certain mold. Even at the end, Suzanne insisted that her funeral be an event where everyone would feel comfortable, no matter their background or personal beliefs. Suzanne was also an expert at embracing everyone in the physical sense. Her hugs were always a little warmer and a little longer. My son Alex recently recalled that she “gave good hugs.” If Suzanne were here, I think she’d ask us all to give good hugs not only today, but always. Fourth, be kind. Whether it was crocheting blankets for hospitalized children, writing a greeting card or just making someone feel loved, Suzanne poured her time and soul into people. Shortly after her initial diagnosis, she presented me with a scrap book of my early years. She meticulously crafted every page with pictures, words, stencil work, and other techniques I probably could not even spell (I’m sure her scrap booking pal, Cousin Gwen could). When she presented the book to me, I could not have felt more special or loved at that moment. She must have spent countless hours and days selecting the pictures, writing the words, cutting, pasting, and assembling that book. That was my Suzanne. She could have picked something off a shelf but she knew it meant more when she made it herself. That was her style of kindness. Be calm, be gracious, embrace everyone and be kind. These are the important lessons my sister taught me. These are the things that she imprinted as a list in my heart.

Great hugs. She was one of the nicest people that I knew. Her hugs were always longer and better than most other hugs that I had received. I was lucky to get to know my Aunt Suzanne and I looked forward to every time I saw her.

It's hard to put into words what Suzanne meant to me. I was blessed to have her in my life for too short a time. Over the past year, Suzanne and I truly became sisters. We shared many common interests, most importantly our love for her brother, my husband, Marc. I always looked forward to our get-togethers. She made everyone feel so welcome, comfortable and important. Our youngest son, Mikey always says "Lets go to Su Su's house. He bonded with her. He loved her. I was privileged to be a part of her life. I am so sad that our times together are over. I miss her.

Aunt Suzanne was a very important person to me. Although I did not know her as long as my other aunts, she was just as special. I always enjoyed visiting her and Rich. She was an incredibly artistic person and always amazed me with her work. She was positive. Even during her darkest days, she kept a quiet dignity that made me admire her. She was a wonderful person and will truly be missed by all.

I remember a yellow dodge dart that we nicknamed 'banana' How is it possible that this much time has gone by? It hardly seems possible that I lost touch with such a good friend from a distant time. We spent many hours laughing and talking during a time we both were thinking about our wedding plans, Suzannes in October and my wedding to my husband in December. How I recall the day of Suzannes wedding when my fiance accidentally spilled champagne all over the front of her beautiful wedding dress, only to tell her 'it will wash out' ..Not what Suz wanted to hear at the time, but, somehow as usual she managed to be graceful and not become too upset with him. Years have passed. States existed between us. For a time we would write to each other, Suzanne always had her favorite stationary with butterflies!! Why is it that we get so busy with our lives that we loose touch with those who were such an integral part of our lives at one point. May all of you know you are in our prayers & we are sincerely sorry for your tragic loss. May Jehovah be with all of you during this time Janelle(Gossett)McKane

A Brother’s Pride - Paul’s Eulogy from Feb. 25, 2006 I am so incredibly proud of my sister, Suzanne. The tremendous strength and courage she displayed during the last 7 months of her life has been an inspiration to everyone around her. Despite the pain she was enduring, despite the dreadful consequences of what might happen, and eventually did, she remained determined, optimistic, and brave, always putting the feelings of others above her own, and doing it with a smile. As she spoke with my brother Marc & I for the last time, on the last Thursday of her life, she told us how much it meant to her to have us in her life, and how deeply we were loved by her. She said that she wished she had more time to spend with us, and how unfair it was, not that she was passing away, but that she wouldn’t have more time with us, to be with us. She told us how much she loved Jackie and Kelly, our dear wives, her sisters-in-law by name, but her true sisters at heart. They meant the world to her since she never had a sister of her own. I’ve been trying to think of the things she would want all of her friends and family gathered today to hear and think about, and knowing my sister and what it was that was at the center of her being is . . . to love. Love one another unconditionally. Never miss an opportunity to say the words, “I love you.” Accept people for who they are, loving their strengths, tolerating their weaknesses, and enjoying the things that make them unique. Don’t take each other for granted, because you never know what life will bring. Use the small amount of time that we each have to accept one another, to care for one another, and to remain united in love for one another. On the last Saturday of her life, the last day of her life, as her breathing grew weaker, as her strength abandoned her, I told her, close to her ear, one last time, that I loved her, and with all her might, with sounds that were no more than weak breaths, she said “I love you. I love you, my brother.” What fragile beauty has departed.

It was mentioned that Suzanne was a very organized person and loved to make lists. Ironically, it was a list that brought Suzanne and me together. When I came to Michigan from New York in 1974, I was accompanied by a close friend, Doug, who wanted to introduce me to some young ladies here in his home area—we had a list. Suzanne's name was first on it, a fact for which I am eternally grateful. I suppose even then Suzanne's name would just naturally be first on any list, her: beauty and character were obvious to all. After meeting her, I had no interest in following up the rest of the list. We corresponded for several months, and I asked her to marry me. Somehow she said Yes, and we were married October 12, 1974. I had to sell the few possessions I owned and worked a few days cleaning windows at the Enfroy home to earn money for her wedding ring. Suzanne inscribed my ring with the words of 1 Corinthians 13:8: "Love Never Fails". Through 31 years of marriage, Suzanne’s love for me never failed, nor mine for her. The words of Proverbs 31:10, 11 were never truer than they were of Suzanne: What a rare find is a capable wife! Her worth is far beyond that of rubies. Her husband puts his confidence in her, And lacks no good thing. (JPS) In the JPS Study Bible this proverb is subtitled "The woman of strength". It comments that this is "a poem describing a wise woman, praising her energy, her economic talents, and her personal virtues.... She is a proud and splendid woman.... Contrary to a common notion of woman’s status in the ancient world, this woman has considerable independence in interacting with outsiders and conducting business, even in acquiring real estate.... The poem is traditionally recited by Jewish men to their wives on Sabbath evening, before the Kiddush (the sanctification of the Sabbath over wine). It is also often recited at funerals of women. The poem is an acrostic, with each line beginning with a letter of the Hebrew alphabet in sequence." That this proverb, so applicable to Suzanne, is an acrostic seems somehow fitting, because Suzanne loved and excelled at word puzzles. But the point of real importance is that she was a wife of noble character, someone—perhaps the only one—in whom I have always been able to have full confidence. She did not fail to tell me when I was running away from a problem instead of confronting it, she did not fail to help me deal with a problem when I did confront it, and she did not fail to console me when I needed that. Just a week or so before her death, I was getting impatient about some matter or other (I don’t even remember what it was now), and she gently chastised me, telling me that this was "a learning experience", that we were both learning from her illness, learning how to endure, how to be empathetic. She knew that our greatest need is not freedom from adversity, but freedom to grow, even if that includes growing through and out of adversity. Suzanne did grow. Her favorite plant among the many in our home is a hibiscus, that she called "Bisky". Bisky provided the subject for a number of Suzanne’s paintings. It took many years before Bisky ever produced a single blossom; but once she did, she produced a steady stream, sometimes three new blossoms in a single day. Suzanne blossomed in the last few years of her life, acquiring a strength of character that endeared her to the many new friends she came to make more and more easily. She blossomed in other ways as well, using her God-given intellect and imagination to explore, to create, and to express herself authentically. After leaving secular employment, she took up an interest in art, beginning with faux finishing, then studying fine art and eventually scrap booking. She used her talents to help others, making crafts as gifts, personalizing them. (Incidentally, the last time Bisky blossomed was the day before Suzanne went into the hospital; she has not produced a single blossom since.) Looking this past week through the many boxes and baskets that Suzanne kept for organizing her life, I found one, a beautiful woven box, that contains all the letters we sent one another during our months of courtship, as well as the anniversary cards we sent each other through our 31 years of life together. During the last four years or so, and prior to her illness preventing her from doing so, Suzanne would compose a little love note each day to put into my lunch bag, so when I had my lunch, I would be reminded of her love for me. Each note was unique, each note was dated, each note was her loving soul poured into words. If she was sick or other circumstances prevented her from creating a note, she would pour kisses into my lunch bag, so I would have those. We had so many little traditions, from Saturday morning coffee, to pet names, to love notes in my lunch bag, and so many others, that in Suzanne I always knew that love never fails. Suzanne did not want a religious funeral, in deference to her love for all the members of her religiously divided family. But she was not irreligious. She loved spiritual discussions and to talk with me about the Bible. The scriptures she herself selected for her funeral, her favorite passages, reflected her love for God and her confidence in God's love for her. She did not want the occasion of her funeral to be a platform for indoctrination or proselytizing, but I do not think she would mind my commenting briefly on her own beliefs, as spoken to me. How trivial and small do you want to make God? Because you can make Him so trivial that He reflects the emotions of an imperfect human and becomes incensed by something as innocent as a family celebrating a child's birthday, or you can make Him so small that he disappears from your view of life altogether. Suzanne never made God small—she made Him large ... in her heart—so large that He overflowed her heart and spilled out to others in action and word. She crocheted blankets for Project Linus, providing something comforting to the children in Beaumont Hospital. She donated to many charities (but always confirmed that they spent the money on the needy and not on organizational overhead). She kept on hand dozens and dozens of greeting cards for every occasion, so that she would have something available for each anniversary, each illness, each event of life experienced by those she knew. When I could not remember a name or a date, all I had to do was ask Suzanne. She loved people and did not forget their names or the important dates of their lives. In Suzanne's studio at home is a marble urn containing ashes. Those ashes are the remains of the body that betrayed Suzanne. That body could not contain her spirit indefinitely—that spirit (as scripture says) has now 'returned to the true God who gave it.' Suzanne had confidence, never as strong as during her last few days, that God is love and that even death could not separate her from that love. She loved the God with whom her spirit now resides. And He loves her, as I do, because Love Never Fails.