Thank you once again Cougar Aquatic Team for hosting the Caitlin Lehmann Memorial Meet at the Secaucus Recreation Center on Sunday, December 2, 2018.
The image at left reflects a banner created by the team for the meet.
The image at left reflects a banner created by the team for the meet.
Eulogy - Dr. Mark Boyea
The writers of the Hebrew Bible and New Testaments, the wisest men and women, and the best novelists and playwrights throughout history all shared the same great insight-that our lives are best understood as a story. And every great story is, in the end, about important ideas or themes.
So what was Caitlin Lehmann's story about?
First, Cait's story was about truth. Caitlin told it straight, and expected you to tell it to her straight. But this forthrightness never expressed itself in disrespect, arrogance, or an attitude. It was demanding, but it was grounded in a genuine love for the truth.
My first encounter with the Lehmann family was a little over three years ago. At the time, I was the Director of Athletics at Montclair Kimberley Academy . One afternoon, I received a call from Rich Lehmann, and he explained that he was interested in having his two daughters transfer to a school closer to home. Rich them proceeded to question me for 45 minutes about the athletics program at MKA. I remember getting off the phone and thinking that this was going to be an interesting family to work with. When school started, I discovered that I had been assigned as Caitlin's advisor. Great - two more years of 45 minute phones calls from Rich. After just a few days of conversations with Caitlin, however, I had learned that Rich was going to be the easy one. In time, I also learned to get used to a steady diet from Cait of "That's OK", "That's a good idea", "That's stupid", "What's that about?", "Who screwed that up?" "House", and other very clear responses to whatever we were discussing. But again-never disrespectful, never offensive, almost always said with a laugh-but straight. And truthful.
Caitlin's story was also about strength. Strength as an athlete, strength as a person, strength as a young woman with cancer. Swimming is a grueling sport that requires mental, physical, and emotional toughness and consistency. Sounds a lot like Cait, doesn't it? She was no different as a student or patient-determined, consistent, focused. There's been a lot of talk about heroes since last September 11, and thankfully it's been talk about real ones-police officers, fire fighters, doctors and nurses. One of my heroes is a young woman who lived the same way that she died-all out, all the time. With great strength.
Another theme of Caitlin's story was humility. She was a strong student, a state championship swimmer whose teammates looked up to her as a big sister or a second mother - loved and respected by many. Yet she didn't regard herself as special in any way. When she did well, she acknowledged it and moved on. When she didn't do as well, she acknowledged that and moved on. She was confident, but never conceited - serious, but never took herself too seriously. But mostly, Caitlin didn't think of herself at all, and that, my friends, is the true definition of humility.
Lastly, and most importantly, the story of Caitlin Lehmann was about love. I often think about visiting Cait at the hospital or her home during the first few months of her illness and meeting one of her aunts - and then an uncle - and then another couple of aunts - and then Grandma Ostrowski - then a couple of cousins, some more uncles, a few more aunts. You get the picture. To the Lehmann and Ostrowski clan, I want you to know something. I have known many, many families, but I have never known a better or more loving one than yours. It didn't matter to you that at first you didn't know me or a number of other people who came to visit. We were there for Cait, and so as far as you were concerned we were one of you.
Caitlin loved you, her teammates, her coaches and her friends just as deeply and well. Paul didn't intend to write about Cait in Corinthians, but permit me to substitute her name for the word "love" in verses 4-7, and see if it doesn't ring true for you:
Caitlin was patient, Caitlin was kind. Caitlin was not envious, or boastful, or arrogant, or rude. She did not insist on her own way. She was not irritable or resentful. She did not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoiced in the truth. She bore all things, believed all things, hoped all things, and endured all things.
I am quite sure that by now Caitlin is begging God to make me shut up. And so, as usual, I will do what she wants, but only after one last personal note.
Answers to most of our questions at times like these are hard to come by. But there are two questions that I am going to try to answer for three people who I love very much. Rich, JoAnne and Jeanne - if you have ever wondered what kind of father, mother, or sister you've been, or if you've ever wondered whether people really knew how wonderful Caitlin was - I ask you to think back on the past 16 months and on the past week, take a good look around you today - and never, ever, wonder again.
So what was Caitlin Lehmann's story about?
First, Cait's story was about truth. Caitlin told it straight, and expected you to tell it to her straight. But this forthrightness never expressed itself in disrespect, arrogance, or an attitude. It was demanding, but it was grounded in a genuine love for the truth.
My first encounter with the Lehmann family was a little over three years ago. At the time, I was the Director of Athletics at Montclair Kimberley Academy . One afternoon, I received a call from Rich Lehmann, and he explained that he was interested in having his two daughters transfer to a school closer to home. Rich them proceeded to question me for 45 minutes about the athletics program at MKA. I remember getting off the phone and thinking that this was going to be an interesting family to work with. When school started, I discovered that I had been assigned as Caitlin's advisor. Great - two more years of 45 minute phones calls from Rich. After just a few days of conversations with Caitlin, however, I had learned that Rich was going to be the easy one. In time, I also learned to get used to a steady diet from Cait of "That's OK", "That's a good idea", "That's stupid", "What's that about?", "Who screwed that up?" "House", and other very clear responses to whatever we were discussing. But again-never disrespectful, never offensive, almost always said with a laugh-but straight. And truthful.
Caitlin's story was also about strength. Strength as an athlete, strength as a person, strength as a young woman with cancer. Swimming is a grueling sport that requires mental, physical, and emotional toughness and consistency. Sounds a lot like Cait, doesn't it? She was no different as a student or patient-determined, consistent, focused. There's been a lot of talk about heroes since last September 11, and thankfully it's been talk about real ones-police officers, fire fighters, doctors and nurses. One of my heroes is a young woman who lived the same way that she died-all out, all the time. With great strength.
Another theme of Caitlin's story was humility. She was a strong student, a state championship swimmer whose teammates looked up to her as a big sister or a second mother - loved and respected by many. Yet she didn't regard herself as special in any way. When she did well, she acknowledged it and moved on. When she didn't do as well, she acknowledged that and moved on. She was confident, but never conceited - serious, but never took herself too seriously. But mostly, Caitlin didn't think of herself at all, and that, my friends, is the true definition of humility.
Lastly, and most importantly, the story of Caitlin Lehmann was about love. I often think about visiting Cait at the hospital or her home during the first few months of her illness and meeting one of her aunts - and then an uncle - and then another couple of aunts - and then Grandma Ostrowski - then a couple of cousins, some more uncles, a few more aunts. You get the picture. To the Lehmann and Ostrowski clan, I want you to know something. I have known many, many families, but I have never known a better or more loving one than yours. It didn't matter to you that at first you didn't know me or a number of other people who came to visit. We were there for Cait, and so as far as you were concerned we were one of you.
Caitlin loved you, her teammates, her coaches and her friends just as deeply and well. Paul didn't intend to write about Cait in Corinthians, but permit me to substitute her name for the word "love" in verses 4-7, and see if it doesn't ring true for you:
Caitlin was patient, Caitlin was kind. Caitlin was not envious, or boastful, or arrogant, or rude. She did not insist on her own way. She was not irritable or resentful. She did not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoiced in the truth. She bore all things, believed all things, hoped all things, and endured all things.
I am quite sure that by now Caitlin is begging God to make me shut up. And so, as usual, I will do what she wants, but only after one last personal note.
Answers to most of our questions at times like these are hard to come by. But there are two questions that I am going to try to answer for three people who I love very much. Rich, JoAnne and Jeanne - if you have ever wondered what kind of father, mother, or sister you've been, or if you've ever wondered whether people really knew how wonderful Caitlin was - I ask you to think back on the past 16 months and on the past week, take a good look around you today - and never, ever, wonder again.
Funeral Homily for Caitlin - Monsignor Timothy Shugrue
Our Catholic tradition describes what we do here this morning as a "celebration" - a celebration of the Eucharist on the occasion of a funeral - part of the Liturgy of Christian Burial. It always seems odd to put those words - 'celebration' and 'funeral' - in the same sentence, but never more so than when the funeral is that of a young person. Our hearts, always heavy when we encounter the mystery of death, are today aching with particular intensity as we confront this death - as we seek to offer consolation to Caitlin's parents and sister, her grandmother, aunts, uncles and cousins, and her many, many friends. It is natural, and not at all out of place in this place, to feel overwhelmed by sadness, certainly, and even by a hurt that comes close to resentment, when we consider the loss and emptiness that are so real in the wake of the death of a loved one. There is sadness, too, when we think about the long and often difficult struggle Caitlin has undergone in the course of her illness.
Yet we say that we celebrate, and we mean it. We celebrate not death, but life: and not just the life that was Caitlin's for these 19-plus years, but the life that has been and is hers, we believe, because she was embraced by Jesus Christ and was given a share in His life, which is unending. Surely, there is much to honor and celebrate in Caitlin's life here - her goodness, her personality, her talent, her determination, her courage, her strength. How well the newspaper account of her athletic ability and accomplishments serves as a metaphor for her fight against the aggressive opponent that she battled so valiantly right to the end. Cancer might be taking her physical life, but it was not going to overcome her inner vitality or the meaning of her life: they were secure, because of Caitlin's remarkable personal gifts of character and focus, and because of the support she derived from her family and friends.
There is so much to celebrate in what Caitlin managed to pack into 19 years on this earth. We only need to look around to see the evidence of her success in influencing people - the greatest legacy any of us can hope for. Even when Caitlin may have been thought most weak, and defeated by the inexorable progress of her illness, she was adding to her legacy an example of extraordinary courage and grace. Along with the inexpressible sadness over their loss, Caitlin's family knows a deep pride in the exceptional young woman who was their daughter and sister and granddaughter. Anyone privileged to know Caitlin even slightly can be grateful for the experience, and proud of her as well.
It seems to me that gratitude is the key component of our prayer today: gratitude to our God for the gift of this special life. And in that spirit of gratitude for all that Caitlin was and did, for us and among us, we celebrate her life in Christ - or, better, Christ's life in her, the consequence of her Baptism and of all the ways Christ continued to touch her spirit. We can celebrate the truth that Christ was with her, her companion every step of the way, especially through her illness and most particularly in her death. In His own experience of human life, suffering and death, we believe Jesus gave us a way to take His hand, reaching out to us, guiding us through life's choices and into our Father's embrace forever. That is what we celebrate here - how that reality touched Caitlin and enveloped her in God's love, and how it touches all of us. Here we renew Jesus' act of sacrifice for us, when He laid down His life for His friends, at least in part to show us that we have nothing to fear in death. It is a reality we all must encounter - each of us at a particular time and in a particular way - never something we can clearly see coming, but something for which we can nonetheless be prepared, by living in the awareness that we are on a journey, that our choices and decisions every day either signal our commitment to that journey and its destination, or lead us into detours and blind alleys that can become true 'dead ends', if they lock us into a sense that we are alone and unreachable. Only then does death have a fearful power. The reality of our having to die was brought home to us with terrible brutality on September 11 - and here we have it forcing itself upon us once again. Each time we confront it, death gives us an opportunity to affirm what we believe about life - that we need to take its every moment seriously, not just because those moments are running out, but because we have enough time to do what we need to do with the gift of our earthly life. Why? Why death? Why death for Caitlin? Why after such a brief time here? Why accompanied by pain and difficulty? Why do we have to suffer this loss? I think that Caitlin, used to sizing up a situation and knowing how to take advantage of every second to improve performance, would be impatient with the question, Why? Don't waste time debating, she might say. Rather, the question is How? How do we live life, responsibly and purposefully, for as long as we may be here? We celebrate our fellowship in the Communion of Saints, with all those who, over time, have shown us how that question can be answered, all of them having responded to Christ in faith, hope and love. Caitlin is a link in this human chain that connects us with this vast family of believers, and with Christ Himself, and encourages us to stay on course, focused on the goal, disciplined in terms of the daily choices that will help us reach our finish line - maybe exhausted, maybe bruised, but with confidence that none of the effort has been misspent.
Jesus' sacrifice speaks powerfully of this mystery - of how it's only in the laying down of what appears to be our life, sharing it generously with others, that we are freed to discover the true and lasting life for which we are created. As we partake of His sacrifice by sharing in His Body and Blood, we nourish that life in us. We celebrate the power of Christ to bring Caitlin to the fullness of life He promised her - a promise she trusted. We celebrate His power to do the same for all of us, to bring us together again one day, with Caitlin and with all whom we've loved and who have loved us, and with all our brothers and sisters in faith.
Yet we say that we celebrate, and we mean it. We celebrate not death, but life: and not just the life that was Caitlin's for these 19-plus years, but the life that has been and is hers, we believe, because she was embraced by Jesus Christ and was given a share in His life, which is unending. Surely, there is much to honor and celebrate in Caitlin's life here - her goodness, her personality, her talent, her determination, her courage, her strength. How well the newspaper account of her athletic ability and accomplishments serves as a metaphor for her fight against the aggressive opponent that she battled so valiantly right to the end. Cancer might be taking her physical life, but it was not going to overcome her inner vitality or the meaning of her life: they were secure, because of Caitlin's remarkable personal gifts of character and focus, and because of the support she derived from her family and friends.
There is so much to celebrate in what Caitlin managed to pack into 19 years on this earth. We only need to look around to see the evidence of her success in influencing people - the greatest legacy any of us can hope for. Even when Caitlin may have been thought most weak, and defeated by the inexorable progress of her illness, she was adding to her legacy an example of extraordinary courage and grace. Along with the inexpressible sadness over their loss, Caitlin's family knows a deep pride in the exceptional young woman who was their daughter and sister and granddaughter. Anyone privileged to know Caitlin even slightly can be grateful for the experience, and proud of her as well.
It seems to me that gratitude is the key component of our prayer today: gratitude to our God for the gift of this special life. And in that spirit of gratitude for all that Caitlin was and did, for us and among us, we celebrate her life in Christ - or, better, Christ's life in her, the consequence of her Baptism and of all the ways Christ continued to touch her spirit. We can celebrate the truth that Christ was with her, her companion every step of the way, especially through her illness and most particularly in her death. In His own experience of human life, suffering and death, we believe Jesus gave us a way to take His hand, reaching out to us, guiding us through life's choices and into our Father's embrace forever. That is what we celebrate here - how that reality touched Caitlin and enveloped her in God's love, and how it touches all of us. Here we renew Jesus' act of sacrifice for us, when He laid down His life for His friends, at least in part to show us that we have nothing to fear in death. It is a reality we all must encounter - each of us at a particular time and in a particular way - never something we can clearly see coming, but something for which we can nonetheless be prepared, by living in the awareness that we are on a journey, that our choices and decisions every day either signal our commitment to that journey and its destination, or lead us into detours and blind alleys that can become true 'dead ends', if they lock us into a sense that we are alone and unreachable. Only then does death have a fearful power. The reality of our having to die was brought home to us with terrible brutality on September 11 - and here we have it forcing itself upon us once again. Each time we confront it, death gives us an opportunity to affirm what we believe about life - that we need to take its every moment seriously, not just because those moments are running out, but because we have enough time to do what we need to do with the gift of our earthly life. Why? Why death? Why death for Caitlin? Why after such a brief time here? Why accompanied by pain and difficulty? Why do we have to suffer this loss? I think that Caitlin, used to sizing up a situation and knowing how to take advantage of every second to improve performance, would be impatient with the question, Why? Don't waste time debating, she might say. Rather, the question is How? How do we live life, responsibly and purposefully, for as long as we may be here? We celebrate our fellowship in the Communion of Saints, with all those who, over time, have shown us how that question can be answered, all of them having responded to Christ in faith, hope and love. Caitlin is a link in this human chain that connects us with this vast family of believers, and with Christ Himself, and encourages us to stay on course, focused on the goal, disciplined in terms of the daily choices that will help us reach our finish line - maybe exhausted, maybe bruised, but with confidence that none of the effort has been misspent.
Jesus' sacrifice speaks powerfully of this mystery - of how it's only in the laying down of what appears to be our life, sharing it generously with others, that we are freed to discover the true and lasting life for which we are created. As we partake of His sacrifice by sharing in His Body and Blood, we nourish that life in us. We celebrate the power of Christ to bring Caitlin to the fullness of life He promised her - a promise she trusted. We celebrate His power to do the same for all of us, to bring us together again one day, with Caitlin and with all whom we've loved and who have loved us, and with all our brothers and sisters in faith.
From the Braves - Teen Support Group at Tomorrows Children
Dear Caitlin,
We have been blessed with an abundance of gifts from you.
You have taught us what it means to have tremendous courage and to yearn for life that exceeds what we thought was our fullest potential.
You have reminded us to be sensible, as Anka would say, and to remember to think clearly even during the most chaotic times.
You help us remember that friendship and trust is to be earned, and that neither is to be taken lightly.
You have let us know you with openness, teaching us what you need and how we can meet you on a level that honestly shows understanding.
You have shown us the essence of family unity and the strength that comes from being knitted to those virtues.
You have shown us strong faith, a silent and powerful partnership with God, belief, and loyalty.
You revealed your dignity as you faced each hurdle with tremendous grace and will.
You have taught those that care for you where to focus their intentions.
You have helped us listen carefully to your words, both audible and silent, so that we could be together with a sense of depth and meaning.
You have let the Braves be part of your journey, and we are forever grateful.
So we surrender to these blessings, which extend far beyond these words to a "forever-ness" that we will always remember and hold dear.
We love you.
We have been blessed with an abundance of gifts from you.
You have taught us what it means to have tremendous courage and to yearn for life that exceeds what we thought was our fullest potential.
You have reminded us to be sensible, as Anka would say, and to remember to think clearly even during the most chaotic times.
You help us remember that friendship and trust is to be earned, and that neither is to be taken lightly.
You have let us know you with openness, teaching us what you need and how we can meet you on a level that honestly shows understanding.
You have shown us the essence of family unity and the strength that comes from being knitted to those virtues.
You have shown us strong faith, a silent and powerful partnership with God, belief, and loyalty.
You revealed your dignity as you faced each hurdle with tremendous grace and will.
You have taught those that care for you where to focus their intentions.
You have helped us listen carefully to your words, both audible and silent, so that we could be together with a sense of depth and meaning.
You have let the Braves be part of your journey, and we are forever grateful.
So we surrender to these blessings, which extend far beyond these words to a "forever-ness" that we will always remember and hold dear.
We love you.