Remembering Suzanne

Memorial Minute: Suzanne Tignor

Suzanne’s light and grace illuminated our small meeting for more than twenty years. Her probing questions, her thoughtful and eloquent responses, her intense curiosity about the world around her, and her determination to live every day in the presence of God helped each of us to deepen our own spiritual journey. She spent her life in unflagging search for meaning and truth. Without flinching from the cruelty and tragedy of the world, she loved Life (capital L) and her own life (small l) with an inspiring and infectious passion. She was fond of the quote, “Be joyful, though you have considered all the facts.”

She was born, Suzanne Claudia Duhamel, in a small French Canadian community in Rhode Island. Raised in a devout Catholic family, she came to Quakerism as an adult after a long search for a spiritual home. Throughout her life she remained interested in other traditions and brought the teachings of Buddha, Meher Baba, Rumi and others into her Quaker practice. She was both intrigued by and wary of the figure of Jesus and struggled to integrate his message of undying love. She liked to say that if asked by a stranger to describe herself, she would start her list of identifying characteristics with, “I am a Quaker.”

Suzanne was orphaned by the age of twelve and was subsequently raised by an aunt and uncle. This trauma shaped the rest of her life and fueled her commitment to live it in full awareness of the mysteries of change and death. She attended college and then married Rhet Tignor, the love of her life for the next forty-four years. They raised three children, Ed Tignor, Emily Tignor Keenum and Jim Tignor, who have all joined Quaker meetings in their own home towns. When they were launched, Suzanne returned to school, completing a Masters in Social Work degree. She was a beloved psychotherapist in both public and private settings for many years.

Suzanne was a map maker. She blazed many trails, calling us, with undaunted courage and penetrating honesty, to dig a little deeper, go a little farther in our search for God’s guidance. She showed us how to savor the simple things in life – chicken stock made from scratch or a grandchild’s broad smile. She taught us to gaze with a child’s sense of wonderment at the first iris or peony and to whoop with joy at weddings and birthday celebrations. More than one young Friend found themselves confiding in her, and her sage advice and deep wisdom, which ranged from child rearing to prayer to bread pudding, was absorbed by all. Her last endeavor as a cartographer found her charting a course for how to meet death face to face. We are grateful for the tracks she leaves behind.

“I can fall in love a hundred times a day,” Suzanne once told a close friend. And she did. She opened the door of her heart and gathered the world in. She was an extraordinary listener and a loyal friend. She loved to cook and she loved to eat. But more, she loved to share the bounty of her kitchen because she understood that fellowship and community are nurtured by generous hospitality. She loved everything French. She railed against environmental pollution, but eventually came to love picking up the garbage on the beach where she walked. She loved her family more than anything, and her devotion to her husband, her children and her six grandchildren was palpable.

And always she was surrounded by laughter. And often, she wept for the unbearable suffering in the world.

Suzanne found God in Nature, in close relationships with family and friends, in poetry and devotional reading, and in the attention she paid to the smallest details of her life. She was determined to be “awake” to it all and determined to align her will with the will of God. Surrendering to the Mystery became a kind of leading for Suzanne during the last days of her life. She turned her face in the direction of the Divine and did not close her eyes. She knew she was going home.

Suzanne served Williamsburg Friends Meeting for many years as convener of Ministry and Counsel. For the last two years she served as co-clerk. She was a gracious hostess and frequently shared her beautiful home for workshops and social gatherings.

She died at home on April 5, 2006 after a long battle with cancer. Suzanne was 64 years old. A memorial service was held in the manner of Friends on April 9, 2006. She leaves behind a legacy of a life fully observed, ardently experienced, and brimful of the possibilities for joy in everyday existence.

Submitted to BYM for inclusion in the Yearly Meeting minutes.

19th day 04th month 2006

"One of Suzanne’s gifts to us in her last few months was her generosity and openness in sharing what she was experiencing. Several months before her death she shared with a group of us what her prayers were for her life at that point. Eventually, as I thought about her words, they emerged as a chant. As I sang this chant I realized that I was chanting it not just for her but also for myself. In fact, it speaks to my condition fairly often."

Grant me peace of mind O Lord

And help me learn acceptance;

Teach me how to rest full of trust in Thee.

Betsy Krome
Toano, VA
[offered at Suzanne's memorial meeting]

09th day 04th month 2006

Winter Landscape

I.
Watching you
drop
your leaves
one
by
one
is agony.

Small talk,
beach walks,
Paris and
pork pie
have settled elsewhere.

Weight,
breath,
wish and
will
are drifting away.

II.
Oh, for the glory of
those full foliage days!
I love my life, you’d say,
and pop an almond in you mouth,
start split pea soup to simmer,
gaze in wonder at the first iris,
the heron across the marsh,
the laugh of a grandchild.
Awake! Awake!
We’ll splash in the bay,
we’ll sing of the angels.

III.
Is it possible to live
in a world where the
assignment of bloom and death
is shouldered without greed
without protest,
where, like iris and heron,
we accept our place?
This is the conversation we’ve been having
for twenty years.

I do know this:
I would not trade
the way the limbs of our lives
have become entangled,
the way practical and spiritual have grown together,
the way rings of holy knowing have been added,
year by year,
to our girth.
And so, I suppose,
I would not trade this agony.

IV.
I pray (if that’s what I am doing)
for Grace.
I pray for bony branches
to wave their arms
in gratitude and praise.
I pray for gentle swaying
to a willing dance of peace
and,
I pray for tap roots
deep inside the heart of things
that never die.
That never die.

V.
And now you are free of the earth you so loved.
We will recover from your dying.
The green fists of the peonies are already
revealing themselves and
your grandchildren are performing pirouettes.
In our remembering your spirit blossoms.

Flown to the darkness,
home in the Light,
you are pure in The All There Is Mystery.

You are hidden from us.
We will never lose you.

Thayer Cory
Williamsburg, VA
[read at Suzanne's memorial meeting]

06th day 04th month 2006

"I have just read your message and am overwhelmed with sorrow.

I was an early attender of the Williamsburg Friends Meeting when Suzanne and a few others would keep the light glowing in Peggy & Len's living room. I cherish my memories of her insight and understanding of beauty, truth and love. The things she would share at meeting were of such great value to me and to other Friends. She knew so much about love. I must confess, I was always disappointed when she was not at Meeting.

One early spring day in the early 1980s...maybe 23-25 years ago, Suzanne read a poem at Meeting that I still hold dear. I still read it from time to time - always thinking of her. If someone would be so kind as to read it for me at her memorial service or visitation, I think it would share the light of Suzanne and bring a smile to her spirit amongst us.

The poem is "Saint Francis and the Sow" by Galway Kinnell . . . I can still see her face covered with tears as she read and marveled at the truth & beauty she found in the words."

Pam Cutler
Albuquerque, NM

Saint Francis And The Sow

The bud
stands for all things,
even for those things that don't flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing;
as Saint Francis
put his hand on the creased forehead
of the sow, and told her in words and in touch
blessings of earth on the sow, and the sow
began remembering all down her thick length,
from the earthen snout all the way
through the fodder and slops to the spiritual curl of the tail,
from the hard spininess spiked out from the spine
down through the great broken heart
to the blue milken dreaminess spurting and shuddering
from the fourteen teats into the fourteen mouths sucking and blowing
beneath
them:
the long, perfect loveliness of sow.

© 1980 by Galway Kinnell; Mortal acts and mortal words, Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston

Suzanne Claudia Duhamel Tignor obit, Daily Press, 07april06

06th day 04th month 2006
The loss we have foreseen for some time now has come to pass. With husband Rhet and daughter Emily beside her,
Suzanne Tignor, member of Williamsburg Friends Meeting since its initial days, died last night, Wednesday the 5th of April, around 1015 pm.