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About |
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| Name | Marie Toon |
| Date of Birth | December 30th, 1958 |
| Date of Death | June 30th, 2018 |
| Home Town | Dayton, OH, US |
| Other City | Dayton, OH, US |
| In Memoriam Donation | GoFundMe Collection to distrbute to various non-profit organizations |
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Family |
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| Children | Kayla Lowry |
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published a tribute .
The Nicest Thing Your Mother Ever Did For Me
About three years ago I once again tried to call your mom, and to my surprise, she answered the phone.
We started talking about everything and nothing, an hour later we’re saying good bye.
A few months later I try again. This time it was several attempts over several weeks before she returned my call. We started with the usual [how are you – how is work – ect. - ect. - etc.] Never asking any personal questions, never giving her “My Opinion”. Eventually she got on a topic of some travesty the government was responsible for, and the longer she talked the more passionate she became. She had been ranting for 15 minutes before she paused to take a breath of air. When she paused I let out a deep sigh, she heard me and immediately became defensive. I tried to tell her it was nothing just forget it. She started to get upset because I didn’t want to tell what I thought, I had no choice. I told her I have never felt comfortable hearing women dropping the F – Bomb, especially from women I cared about.
I braced myself, here it comes, ‘OH MY GOD – IT’S JUST A WORD’. Only that’s not what happened.
She paused for just a second and then just said “Oh”. The conversation was coming to an end anyway, nothing more was said about it and we said our good byes.
A few more months and a few more attempts before she called me again. I was worried that she might never call because of what I said. She called we talked and then once again she got onto the subject of All the Government Doesn’t Do, and she was just as passionate as ever. Only I noticed a big difference, she never once dropped the F – Bomb. I stopped her and thanked her and just said “I get it”. Every time we have talked since then she tried very hard, rarely slipping, and always trying.
Uncle Dennis
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published a tribute .
My name is Blanche Gaynor. I am one of Marie's older sisters. The following is a poem our older sister, Christina, wrote in honor of Marie.
My Sister Marie
Little of stature and mighty of heart.
A strong and fierce exterior with an extremely fragile soul.
Her laugh trembled from the soles of her feet, the top of her head.
Her eyes glistened with bright intelligence.
She was haunted by demons real and imaginary; she suffered‒hiding her fears in silence.
Her despair reached unimaginable depths.
Tragedy overcame her.
No love, no warmth, no light could penetrate the darkness that enveloped her.
We celebrate the goodness she expended on the many lives she touched in her too short life.
I believe that the good she did will outweigh her shortcomings.
I like to believe that the peace she could not find on this earth, she has found in heaven with Mother (her tender arms wrapped around her).
Our universe has a great hole in it.
As we strive to understand, to grasp this awful circumstance, we need, no, must not, self-incriminate ourselves.
Forgiving Marie and ourselves will bring peace.
This celebration of the goodness in her life is the first step to healing.
We now know you silently suffered these many years under the unbearable weight of unjustified blame for decades.
Blame eating away at your very existence twisting you relentlessly toward self-destruction.
I release you, Marie, from all blame.
I entrust your beautiful soul into God’s hands.
Your ashes will be spread north, south, east and west, as a reminder of the kindness and thoughtfulness and joy you have spread among family, friends and strangers.
Gifts that will continue giving, like ripples on the rivers you so enjoyed boating on.
Please, Marie, may peace I give to you.
Peace, Marie, Peace.
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For those who don't know me, I am Kayla, Marie's youngest child. Now it sucks to say but being the youngest means I have the fewest memories of Marie. The memories I treasure most are the birthdays. Her waking up at the crack of dawn decking out the table and giving us one present to open. She would make pancakes, waffles, fruit pizza, or whatever we asked for before we went to school. Before we left she made sure she knew what we wanted for dinner and dessert and always had it prepared that evening. Those moments are the ones I will hold dearest when times are toughest.
I don't hide from the fact that we had a challenging relationship. Which is why I want to take the time to discuss general mental health and how we can help each other during this time.
I have a list of 6 Items I ask of each of you:
1. First, Don't say "you can't feel or think that." If I am saying it out loud the thought or emotion is already there.
2. You don't always have to have advise. Just listening is good enough.
3. Don't be afraid to share your anger. Anger is a natural emotion when grieving.
4. If you are hurting reach out to someone. I am always willing to listen. I don't hide from my emotions or from mental illness.
5. The "why" will haunt us. It is an unanswerable question so don't hold on to it.
6. Finally, when you think of someone tell them. Sending a quick text saying " i am thinking of you" let's them know they aren't alone and puts no obligation on the person to respond.
I will always love my Mom and will share every but of her with her grandchild. Thank you.
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It takes some life changing event to remind you that we all live in different worlds. The rest are moving on whether you are ready to move along with them or will just be catching up. Our worlds kept moving and changing while my mom drifted away. I wish her world had gravitated towards ours more often in recent years.
I’m never going to understand everything my mom was going through, but in listening to her friends and family some of those gaps will be filled.
She lived in absolutes. She saw everything in black and white; right or wrong. She couldn’t appreciate the grays. Even in the mirror.
As kids, she trained us to stick up for ourselves. If we were having a problem with each other or some other kids, she would always tell us to say “I don’t like being treated that way.” When we finally had the strength to say that to her, she wasn’t ready. We tried to give here hope and she made strides to repair our relationship but couldn’t understand that we didn’t just see her as black or white. For all the anger and disappointment, there was always love and hope.
She didn’t always recognize or remember all of the ways we love her.
I can still remember her stroking my head when I was little to help me fall asleep or holding a trash can while I was sick, trying not to be sick herself. Or embarrassing me with calls to the school to complain about some curriculum or class session. Or swimming in a river, or taking us to the Renaissance festival.
When I was in 2nd or 3rd grade, I would walk to school alone. The route was about a half-mile down an alley and across a through road at a lighted intersection then down a hill that is bigger in my memory than in truth. I was apparently proud to have that independence. Later in life, I kayaked some rivers and climbed some rocks alone that maybe I shouldn’t have, but had the confidence to do so. Recently, I was told that my mom was following me the entire walk to school to make sure I made it there safe.
On summer days in high school, I would play sand volleyball at a local park with a bunch of friends. When my mom found out that some of them were girls, her first question was whether I had stolen any balls from them. That was her mission: to install in me a respect for the ability of women. And when I found a strong, smart woman, I recognized it. She recognized it, too.
When she was present, she was a great grandmother.
She told Owen that he could call her “Rie”. So, we called her “Granny Rie”, which she wasn’t psyched about but accepted. On a trip to Ohio, Owen and I, met my mom at a playground next to her rowing house. She brought us lunch, ran up and down the jungle gym with him and splashed through the water park. Then, we got to help her load her skull on to the river and watched from them bridge as she rowed up and down the river for us.
She got to hold and soothe Ella and read her some of my favorite books from my childhood. Although my kids barely knew her and may not remember her, her presence will be felt. For all the things they won’t experience with her, they will experience with me. This summer, I coached Owen on his first tee-ball team just as my mom did for me. We’ve played catch and, so far, successfully avoided any black eyes, but I know they’re coming.
Just a couple weeks ago, I took Ella and Owen on a hike up a creek. They waded in the edges and threw rocks just to watch the splashes. We listened quietly for animals and picked blackberries and kept an eye out for “leaves of three”.
And every Christmas for the rest of my life, I will be decorating a tree while singing along with Ruth Lyons.
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published a tribute .
My first text from Marie was shortly after I finished LTR "When can we get out river rat?" I loved her from the beginning. She had been waiting in the parking lot for our class to finish so she could meet all the new rowers. When I got her text that evening I was thrilled. What followed were endless days of rowing and exploring the many amazing restaurants of Dayton. She showed me the city like I'd never seen it and our friendship grew beyond what I would have imagined. I'm only one of many with these memories, she at times would row multiple times in a day to be sure people were able to get out. She was always uplifting and never critical and truly showed what rec rowing was all about.
It's impossible to believe that I will attend her memorial today. Her children have managed to plan something that I know she would have loved even in the face of their devastating loss. They are all amazing which doesn't surprise me at all having known their mom. Hang in there and know that everyone you see or meet today is there to support you through this heartbreaking time.
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published a tribute .
We are deeply saddened to hear this news. Marie impacted our whole family with her great spirit. When I think of Marie first I think of her with open arms ready to serve others at every turn. Marie had a seemingly indefatigable passion for life, her generosity, her humor , her strength, were just a part of her legacy. How lucky we were to have crossed paths in life . We are so grateful for this great gift. We have so many Marie stories to tell. We carry her legacy in our hearts always.
Prayers for Peace and Comfort to Marie, Ken, Kayla, Christina, and Jason.
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published a tribute .
I have been heavy-hearted ever since hearing about Marie’s passing, knowing how crushing it has been for your family. My thoughts will be with you all in the coming days and months.
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published a tribute .
Some of my fondest childhood memories were of going to your house. There were always so many kids from around the neighborhood playing outside in the street. Your dad would have the dogs out. Your mom would be working in the garden. I remember staying the night at your house and Marie making the best banana pancakes for us the next morning. I knew you could put blueberries or chocolate chips in pancakes...but BANANAS? My mind was blown. Your house was always a fun, creative space...and she definitely helped to make it that way. My childhood would not have been the same without your friendship and those fun summer days at the Phelps house. I will forever be thankful for the time I was able to spend with Marie and the impact she and your family has had on my life. Sending you all my love during this very sad time.
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published a tribute .
My prayers are with all of Marie's family . Log time friend of Kathy's Blessings to All
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published a tribute .
Marie was always cheerful and upbeat at the boathouse. She will be missed. My deepest sympathies for your loss.
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published a comment .
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