My "Clair De Lune"

If you are reading this, you are obviously someone in my life, possibly a relative but definitely my friend. You may know me really well, and we have a lot of memories together, or maybe you’ve only known me for a few short years...either way, you are someone that is in my life, and no matter who you are, I am grateful you are reading this.

With that being said, I wish this was more personal. I wish that you, as a reader and my friend could have a hand written letter, delivered to your front door, with a pretty stamp in the top right corner, and a wax seal on the back...I know it sounds a bit old fashioned, but as you read this, whether you are at work or at home, I hope it’s more than sitting in front of a computer, reading some meaningless words on page. I hope you hear my voice, as I tell you about a great man who is one of the most important people in my life. I hope you hang on to every word from beginning to end and I would like to apologize for the length, but know that this is only a small bit of what I have on my mind, and how does one only write a few short sentences about this man? Lastly, thank you again for reading this, I hope you can at least get a small glimpse of my thoughts as I tell you about the man that I know as my Opa.

Frank A. Lucardie was born in Indonesia on May 15, 1933. He had two brothers and a little sister. Growing up during the war he went through a lot. “A lot” being an understatement, and more than anyone should ever have to go through. I remember hearing about how when he was a young boy and how his father went off to war. He waved goodbye to him, as he rode off in a train, and never saw him again. His little sister, Rosalina, was killed, at a very young age. We did not know her name until after I was born, but you can imagine how special my name meant to me after finding out it was my Opa’s sisters name. During the war there were times when he was a prisoner, and had to live in camps. I remember one time I played Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata for him. When I was done playing the song, with tears in his eyes he was able to tell me the story of this one time when he was held captive along with a group of people. I do not know the specifics, but I know that they were told that they were going to be killed in the morning. That night, someone played that song on the piano,..they were rescued before the morning came…Somehow my Opa put the war behind him. I can’t even fathom,,,he never really spoke of it. I guess the person that he became, a strong survivor, says more than words ever could.

My Oma and Opa had three beautiful children, Glenn, Bridget (Brigitta…who’s my Mom) and then John. When my Mom was a baby, they packed up all that they had and moved here to America. They were able to provide a much better life for them than they ever had. My Opa became an engineer and he traveled the world for his job. He had a very important job of traveling to different countries and helping with water purification. He really was a very smart, intelligent and brilliant man. I always remember hearing that he was “over seas”. When I was little, I heard it so much that I thought that it was an actual place. I remember seeing pictures of him in all of these foreign countries. My favorite picture is of him on the Great Wall in China. I remember he brought home a huge stuffed panda bear for me; it instantly became my favorite toy. My Opa loved to travel. When I lived in Russia, I would write home about all of the places I was able to see, my Mom would reply and tell me that I was just like my Opa, with a strong passion to travel and see the world. It was an honor to be compared to him. Somehow the “travel gene” was passed on to me through him. Even in his older age, my Opa was still traveling. While I was in Russia, he was in Yemen and I was able to read the letters that he wrote home…I remember reading about how much he loved my Oma. They always bickered, pretty much every time I was with them, but there love for each other is more than I can put into words. I always loved to watch them dance together. When they were younger, they used to be in dance contests, dancing to the sounds of the Big Bands. They were able to experience my favorite kind of music first hand. I wish I could go back in time and watch them.

When he was young, he always wanted to play the piano. I know that he always wanted lessons, but his family could not afford it. That did not stop him from discovering that he had a great love and passion for music. My Opa loved jazz and classical may have even had a bigger place in his heart. When I was younger he would always tell me about these different composers, Chopin, Mozart, Beethoven and more. He would listen to them constantly. When my Mom was young he tried to get her to play the piano, and develop the same love of music that he had, but for some reason she didn’t take to it. March 11, 1985, my Opa was blessed with his second granddaughter…me. When we were little my brother and I always stayed the night at their house. I remembered we played games a lot and I can remember every little detail about their home. The smell, the little nick nacks on the shelves, the kitchen…everything. Most of all I remembered how much I loved it there. When my Opa discovered that I had a talent and love for music, no matter what the occasion was he would always ask me about the piano, and tell me to always practice. I loved the piano, and still do. Next to the gospel and my family, music is my life, love, and passion. Somehow how I was able to play really well, without even having one lesson. I remember playing songs for my Opa, and he would always sing along. My favorite song was Moon River…I always loved to hear him sing it. When I was in my early years of high school he introduced me to the most amazing song “Clair De Lune” by Debussey. That was the first big classical piece that I learned, and I fell in love with it. Whenever I hear that song, I can’t help but think of my Opa. I recently had a recital, with all of my students and I dedicated it to him, my “Clair De Lune”.

As he came closer to the end of his life I was able to reflect upon all of the great memories that we’ve shared. Going out to eat at Asian restaurants and being amazed at how he could pick up more than one peanut with his chopsticks, spending a whole day with just him and I as he showed me all around Vegas. A funny one I have is when he gave me an adult Tylenol when I was kid...I chewed it…it wasn’t a chewable pill…and the closest place to get rid of it was behind there couch…my silly Opa. If only I could write forever I could write all of my memories that I have with him…

This past November when I saw him, he said I looked a fatigued…I admit I was a little tired, but I didn’t think I looked that bad. He went home, and told my Oma, that he thought I was pregnant. A few days later I found out I was pregnant. He was more than thrilled to find out I am having a boy. When I cut my finger, he just happened to go in to the hospital on the same night that I did, and he patted my tummy and said, “My boy”. Those were some of the last words I ever heard him say.

Near the end there were some very difficult times. It was heart wrenching when he told me that he could be dying, and that he’d watch me from above. Then the hardest part of all was seeing him in a hospital bed, barely conscience. I thought: how could such a strong brilliant man be in this condition? That night I brought him some music to listen to with songs that I knew he would love. My Mom played the music for him constantly, until his very last moments here on Earth.

This is definitely one of the hardest things that I’ve ever had to go through. My Opa was so much more than a Grandpa to me…like I said, he is my “Clair De Lune”. I wish I could elaborate on what that really meant, but I honestly don’t know how to put it in to words. The pain of missing him is more than I’ve ever felt in my life, and I couldn’t imagine how much harder it would be if I didn’t have a testimony of knowing with all my heart that I will see him again. As I got the message last night from my dear Mom, “Opa is now with Hunter”, our little baby boy who will soon be with us, all I could hold on to, to keep the hurt from being unbearable was, I can’t wait to see him again…I really can’t wait, and I know it’s going to be a long time from now, which makes its worse, but I can and will always hold on to my testimony. The other night, when I knew that it was really close to him passing, I thought about how he’s going to be taken care of when he leaves us. A peace and comfort came over me…I know that people say that he’s going to a “better place”, but wouldn’t you be sad if you had to leave all of your family and loved ones? I remember seeing the look in his eyes when he knew that his time was coming, and I couldn’t help but feel a small piece of the sadness that he was feeling. I knew that he would have to say goodbye soon.

It’s only been about 12 hours since he left us…I think of my poor Mom, who was such a Daddy’s girl. She meant the world to him, and she loved him beyond measure. I also think of my Oma…they’ve spent almost their whole lives together. I can’t imagine what they are going through, but we all know how incredibly lucky we are to have had him in our lives. He was such a strong person, with a brilliant mind, loving heart, and he was my Opa…my very own Opa who I love and adore. I lay here in bed, with a tear stained face, only thinking about him and wondering what he’s doing right now. I know that if he was here, I would get a kiss on each cheek, and then he would gently hold my face as he looked at me with a big smile. I look forward to when he will be able to do that again.

So this is my tribute to him. Nothing could ever do enough justice, but I’ve done my best.

You reading this means more than you know. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart. It’s interesting what we have to go through in life, but everything shapes and molds us into who we are. Heavenly Father blessed me with a great man as my Opa, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I’ve also been blessed with the gospel that has and will help more than anything else. Lastly, I would like to leave you with the lyrics of “Moon River”…

“Moon river, wider than a mile, I’m crossing you in style someday.

Old dream maker, you heart breaker. Wherever you’re goin’ I’m goin’ your way.

Two drifters off to see the world, there’s such a lot of world to see.

We’re after the same rainbows end, waiting ‘round the bend,

my huckleberry friend, Moon river and me.”

Thank you friend, for your time, love and support.

Love, Rosalie