Lindgren, Adele

Adele Lindgren - age: 93
(January 19, 1926 to November 10, 2019 )
Resident of Ukiah, California

Obituary:
Adele Lindgren 1/19/1926 – 11/10/2019

Adele and her sister were born into a Lithuanian community in Brooklyn, NY near the East River. Her father was a butcher and with her mother owned a luncheonette serving breakfast and lunch to Con Edison employees. Adele and her husband, Harold Lindgren, raised their 4 children, Cynthia Lindgren, Corrine Lindgren, Lisa Bernardi, and Merritt Lindgren in Dix Hills, then a rural area on Long Island. Adele loved walking in the woods and along the beaches of Long Island. Gardening was her passion. She found plants for her garden with the names of each of her children.

She enjoyed her job selling theater tickets for the Shubert Theaters in NYC where she attended many plays on and off Broadway. She loved camping with family and friends and always prepared the best meals. It was important to her that her children experienced the beauty of nature. She loved the snow, attempted skiing once, which was hilarious, and enjoyed ice skating on the lakes and ponds of Long Island. She gave her children a wholesome, well-rounded life which also included a healthy diet, swimming and music lessons, ballet, Brownies, Girl Scouts, and Pioneer Girls. Later Adele worked at two large estates on the Island; Westbury Gardens and Coe Hall.

Her home in Dix Hills was built from the ground-up by her husband where they raised their family. At age 93 in September 2018, she moved to a new home in Ukiah, CA to be near three of her children, grand and great grandchildren. She enjoyed her life in Ukiah until one day, she laid down to a gentle sleep, and moved on to her next experience.

She was loved by her grandchildren: Alden Perry, Merritt Perry, Stacy Calderone, Jason Calderone, Joel Calderone, Christopher Bernardi and great grandchildren: Gavin and Maia Perry, Ryan McGrew, and Julian and Sadie Calderone.

Words from her family:

Merritt Lindgren: “Digger Odell” we called her, she was always digging up plants on her travels to transplant into her garden. She was a bighearted woman with a passion for gardening. A loving mother who deeply cared for her children. A humorous person who enjoyed laughing.

Jason Calderone: Grandma’s brevity was only matched by her obstination. A classic gem all the way to the end. I’ll miss our phone calls.

Ryan McGrew: I miss great grandma very much and I loved seeing her at brunch, Also, it was very fun to deliver food to her every day at the blackout.

Maia Perry: She always put others before herself and wanted the best for her family and friends

Stacy Calderone: My grandmother Adele fascinated me. She lived, she loved and learned to be authentically herself. Hundreds of her stories circle in my head. One silly childhood memory that keeps popping up from decades ago is dancing around her living room with her to the 8-track of Donna Summer – “Heard it on the Radio,” with shag carpet under my feet, thinking she was the coolest woman around. My grandmother was FUN. Our childhood summer visits were always special at her home – I loved … being in her presence, her soft-boiled eggs, beach visits, learning about her gardens, and that she tried her best to be “fancy.” I never thought about how significant she was in every stage of my life until now. The wisdom she shared through every trial, tribulation and triumph I endured will remain my compass. She was a kindred spirit for my soul – I cherish the countless hours spent chatting, giggling, receiving guidance, documenting ancestry details, hearing stories of her life and romances – we’d become more girlfriends in my older years. She was proud of me, her only granddaughter – and she knew I was deeply proud of her too. She always accepted me as I was and I knew I was loved. I will miss that we didn’t have more time together. She mattered deeply to me. I will do my best to fill my life with as much adventure, friendship and devoted family as she did. She was a remarkable role-model and I’m so grateful she was my grandmother. I love you, Gramma. As Ryan says, you’ve “left your shell and are now our invisible angel with wings.”