Tribute Wall
Plant a tree in memory of Louise
An environmentally friendly option
Provide comfort for the family by sending flowers or planting a tree in memory of Louise Enriquez.
Guaranteed hand delivery by a local florist
Loading...
e
The family of Louise Enriquez uploaded a photo
Tuesday, January 28, 2020
/tribute-images/565/Ultra/Louise-Enriquez.jpg
Please wait
D
Diane Jones posted a condolence
Saturday, April 4, 2009
My heart goes out to the family on your loss. So many memories growing up with Gigi. The welcoming home Mrs. Enriquez created all the time, and years later in the library, when we ran into each other again, the beautiful smile she always had. Rest in peace.
A
Anita Landis posted a condolence
Sunday, March 8, 2009
I light a candle to honor the memory of the woman who was not only a wonderful mother and grandmother. She helped me out when I got married (many years ago) by completely transforming a dress that I bought that was 4 or 5 sizes too big into the most beautiful dress I could have imagined. In addition she made me a little bag and a small handkerchief. Without her talent I don't think I would have been such a pretty bride. I will miss her but I am so happy to have this memory. With love to you all, Anita
N
Nikki Tait posted a condolence
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Dear Abuelita, My very first memory of you isn't of you exactly, but of looking up into my parents' faces from your arms. I later learned that you were babysitting my sisters and I for the weekend and this memory is of seeing my parents upon their return. While I may not remember the details of this visit to your house, I later stored up many more memories of afternoons, evenings, or weekends spent "at Abuelita's." Your house held specific memories for me: rearranging your carpet tiles in your family room, flipping through your sticker albums, swaying in your rocking chair (and fighting with Toni and Greta over whose turn it was to sit in it), wondering what that secret staircase behind the door led to and never believing the simple explanation of an upstairs apartment. Exploring your flowers and gardens, and what I remember being an orange tree in your backyard. Figuring out that I cannot leave crayons out in the sun. They melt. Peeking into your garage, that I fully associate with Poppi. I thought I could catch a glimpse of him through the tiny windows. Your plates. They have a specific sound and weight and feel that I could pick out of a lineup. The smell of your house. It’s delicious, and warm. It smells of happiness, family and you. I still smell it randomly and will tell whomever is nearby that “it smells like Abuelita’s in here.� Your pin-cushion fruit and your glass peacock, and later, in my early teens, Gigi’s forgotten novels… The fish pillow on your couch. The long snake pillow. The floor cushions you made for us. The blankie you sewed for me to replace my beloved Puffy. Ginger ale in those bumpy glasses as adults, and in reused jelly jars as children. Pumpkin pie and egg nog. Fish that we swore was chicken. Your chicken. Peanut butter cookies prepared and baked in the only basement I was never afraid of. Well, not if you were with me! The carnival that came to some school or churchyard near your house once a year. We never went to it, but the sounds and smells that came from that carnival evoke feelings of nostalgia and childhood so strongly, my mouth waters. Learning what it means to go “around the block� by taking walks with you. Dancing by your radiator to “I Wanna Dance With Somebody� (that I sang over and over to myself) because I thought that’s what Whitney Houston meant in the song by “feeling the heat.� Your photographs. Your paintings. Your calendars. Your hugs. The father you gave me, who turned out to be more unique and wonderful than anyone bargained for. Thank you. Lastly, my most important memory of you is the advice you gave me after I became a mother. Maybe it wasn’t intended as advice, so much as your sharing an experience, but your words shaped into something profound for me. It was spring of 2005, I was a new mom, and I was in the midst of the cloudy confusion, hatred, and guilt of postpartum depression. I’m not even sure how much you knew of my condition when you sat down to talk with me, but once you started talking, I knew you knew what I was going through, and more surprisingly, that you understood it. You assured me my love would come. It would. And in the meantime, I was being a wonderful mother, even though I didn’t think so. You confided that you knew it was hard, and that you also knew I had the strength to do this. You told me you understood my pain, my short comings, and my tears. You understood, and you were sorry I had to experience this too. My strong, tall, unwavering, stubborn, opinionated, beautiful Abuelita, you knew. You assured me it would be okay. And it was. You were right. The love does come. Abuelita, I love you so much. I am blessed to have had you as my loving grandmother. Love, Nikki
G
Gail Krementz posted a condolence
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Dear Carla: My name is Gail. I was your mother's neighbor at the apartment and used to take her shopping and to lunch sometimes along with Romona. She was truly a remarkable woman and will never, ever be forgotten. I learned so much from her. Sadly, I was just thinking about calling her and then I saw that in the paper. It said peacefully, so I hope she didn't suffer. Take care, you are in my thoughts and prayers. With Love, Gail Krementz
T
Tommy Tait posted a condolence
Saturday, March 7, 2009
I want to tell Abuelita that I love her so so much and that I really miss her. She was really nice to me. And I love her sooo much and I just can't stand it. And I want to tell God and Abuelita that I love them so much. I want to tell her that I am so glad that you're feeling better now, and that you can stand up again and that you can talk again. And that your eyes work still, and that your heart is better. -Tommy, age 4. Great-grandson
K
Kelly Meyers posted a condolence
Saturday, March 7, 2009
I am deeply sorry for your loss. My thoughts and prayers go out to you and your family during your time of mourn.
B
Bob & Diane Griffiths and Allison Lindenlaub posted a condolence
Friday, March 6, 2009
Dr. Enriquez and family, We are so sorry to hear of your mother's passing. She sounds like she was a remarkable woman. You are in our thoughts and prayers. God bless.
T
The Mattioli Family posted a condolence
Thursday, March 5, 2009
You and your family have been in our thoughts. We hope your sadness is relieved with the wonderful memories you will share in the days to come. Smile and know that we are all better because she was among us. With much love
G
Greta posted a condolence
Monday, March 2, 2009
I remember how she taught us about growing things, the care and attention she paid to her plants carried on to us. She never backed down from an argument, but had this way of making you try even harder to think through your thoughts and feelings on a whole variety of subjects. She spent her life caring for us, and I will always remember her hugs, her smile and her indomitable spirit. I love you, Abuelita. Your Greta
V
Valerie Alper posted a condolence
Monday, March 2, 2009
Ourdeepest condolences to you and your family. All Our Love, Jeffrey and Valerie Alper
C
Carla Enriquez posted a condolence
Sunday, March 1, 2009
This is our beautiful mother. Age did not diminish her plucky spirit, sharp penetrating intellect or her incredible vitality and beauty. We celebrate your life, Ma. Beto, Gigi, and Carla