Obituary of Martin W. Lindquist

Tribute from Daughter Mary To know my dad, Marty Lindquist was to know pure love and kindness. I could never really explain his uniqueness. He was a hero beyond measure when he raised his 5 children after mom’s passing in 1981. I was the oldest at only 8 years old. Imagine a person able to handle this level of responsibility and stress. Only then can you begin to understand his value. Further, his children are successful, well adjusted adults leading careers and raising families. He had such a sincere way of listening, truly hearing and seeking to understand others. He was kind and cared about others well beyond anyone I’ve ever met. I would speak to my dad for hours on end processing events in my life, I don’t know how I never wore him out. Many of these conversations would happen at 1415 Poulson Street in his kitchen corner by the sink (the one he never let anyone help do dishes or prepare meals at) often with a coffee or beer nearby. He was known for offering guests apple juice. The house was always full - neighbors, friends, including his friend Mel who he treated like a son, and of course all his children. Dad had such a sense of humor. In our house we were happy and laughing much more than we were sad or crying. Dad was such a piece of work, truly one of a kind. All visitors to his kitchen laughed. Most of the humor was directed at himself; his bald head or getting left back in school. Even though he had so many responsibilities, somehow, he always found the joke to lighten things up. Dad showed us the importance of good health. I value how his simple example of preparing us healthy food, serving us balanced meals, leaving out the junk food and soda and ensuring all the fat was cut off our meat. None of us knew how to use a knife when we left the house. Dad wasn’t taking any risks with knives. We also lined up for our liquid vitamins in the morning. Those lessons stayed with me and allowed for health and wellness to be a priority in my life. Dad never had any debt. This was another big lesson for his children. Dad raised us on a Fireman’s pension, and he managed money well. He ensured we had what we needed and never wanted money to be an issue. He was good at saving money and pretty savvy with the stock market and investing. It was admirable that he could pay for college and buy us used cars as we got older. Dad sent us all to Catholic elementary school. I believe those foundational Christian values have helped all of us throughout our lives. I know he prayed for his family and himself especially through challenging times. Dad was a simple and humble man. His life was dedicated to his children. He didn’t have worldly desires except maybe to win the lotto so he could give the proceeds to his family in the hopes of making our lives easier. He was known for the many notebooks he filled with combinations of past winning lotto numbers so he could try to figure out how to crack the jackpot. We were always challenged as to what to give him for his birthday or holidays since he never wanted anything for himself. My dad was a gem. A person for everyone he met to treasure. He brought a smile and kindness everywhere. He was a true gentleman. He would always go out of his way to say hello and offer a hand. During his 10 years at senior housing in Bellmore, NY, he was the one neighbors counted on for help getting groceries or climbing stairs. It was very meaningful when we cleared out his apartment to have one neighbor after the next tell us what a nice man dad was and how much he meant to them. Most recently when we would take walks with dad, he always gave everyone we passed a big hello and would light up even as his stamina was declining. Dad loved his grandchildren dearly. He spent many years taking care of them to help my brothers and sisters. The long days and energy that required never seemed to tire dad out. He would light up around babies and children. I’ll always remember when we asked many times for a dog, he would tell us he would rather have another child. Now, I know for sure this was not an excuse. Dad, I love you and I miss you. There’s a hole in our home and in our hearts. I miss making you light and sweet coffee and your beating Pete and I at Blackjack and Old Maid. I loved caring for you in your final months and days. You remained easy going and appreciative even as you declined. You had such strength to the end. It was so admirable. Through my tears I write this and know you are at peace in heaven with Jean. I picture a wedding atmosphere with dancing, singing and beer. I’m so happy for you. Your life’s beautiful work is now complete, may you rest in the most well-deserved eternal peace. My heart is broken and so full at the same time. To all our friends and family. Dad told me many times he did not fear death. He was ready for it when it would be his time. He also left a handwritten note that he didn’t want his funeral to be a sad occasion. I use that sentiment to comfort myself and I hope you can too. Dad wanted everyone to be happy so please smile, if only through your tears and recall your best memories of a humble, selfless, kind man, my dad, Martin William Lindquist (US Army 1968, NYPD 1968, NYFD 1987). Thank you to my husband Peter for all your help and dedication to caring for my dad with me. You never hesitated to roll up your sleeves and help in his care as well as managing his bookkeeping. You stood between my dad and assisted living, for without you, I never would have been able to insist he come and live with us. You are my rock. I treasure you for having the same rare traits and values as my dad. Tribute from Daughter Liz Selfless, generous, caring, hardworking…Simply the best. Pop set the standard high for all of us. Not because he was wildly successful financially, not because he was flawless, not because he lived without mistakes, but because he lived his life completely dedicated to his family. From sunup to sundown, Pop would be ready in the kitchen to make a meal, do the laundry, drive us somewhere or play a game of chess or Rummy 500. Pop would be in his corner, listening to the radio, snacking on nuts or hard pretzels and sipping coffee or beer out of a yogurt cup. He trusted us to be students, athletes, kind to our friends and really gave us a lot of freedom to grow up and make mistakes along the way. Pop never asked for anything except that we take care of each other and never let anything come between us. Pop was an incredible grandfather to our kids. Some of my favorite times spent with him were when my first daughter Sophie was born and he would come over each day. We took walks, sometimes exploring other neighborhoods and having endless conversations. Pop was a great listener and never imposed his ideas, but would share his advice. Pop came to the pediatrician on many of my girls’ first appointments and would cry as they had to get their shots. Pop was always quick to cry! I remember the first time Sophie got a shot, she wouldn’t stop crying. He knelt in front of her swing and held her hands until she fell asleep. That’s just who he was. Always doing for others, his kids, grandkids and then later the neighbors who lived in his Bellmore community. When we would talk about what he was up to it would usually involve picking up someone’s medication, driving someone to the grocery store or carrying packages and a walker up the stairs at the end of the day. In the end, he had a life well lived, but not one without tragedy and heart ache. It is a great comfort to me to know that he is with my mom, the true love of his life. May he rest in eternal peace, until we meet again. With all our love, Liz, Don, Sophie, Olivia, Emily and Natalie Tribute from Daughter Patsy When I think of my dad, I remember all the ways he tried to teach us and guide us throughout our lives. With these memories comes a number of catch phrases that we heard all throughout the years. The first is “take it easy.” As children,take it easy was something he would shout down the basement stairs when we were misbehaving. He would be pounding the palms of his hands against his hips. That meant he was fed up. Later, we might say “Dad, I am going to a high school party with my friends tonight.” His response would be “Ok,take it easy.” That meant, be sure to make good choices. And eventually, when one of us would come home brokenhearted, he would say “Ok, come in, take it easy.” That meant, it’s ok, we are here for you. My dad was a worrier. So the last thing in the world he would ever want for one of us is to have any kind of worry. Every single voicemail he left started the same way. “Hey Patsy, it’s dad. Don’t worry, everything is fine, give me a call later. Ok, be careful.” That was another of his famous phrases,be careful. I couldn’t climb a flight of stairs without him calling out “be careful on the stairs!” This happened through my forties. But I realized, as an adult, that hisbe careful meant I love you. It is the last thing he said every time any of us left the house and it was how he ended every phone call. So, Daddy, I want to say to you, take it easy now. Relax, everything is going to be fine. Jon, Jack, Daryn and I all love you a whole lot.