Obituary for Constance Decicio
A Love Story, written by Curtis Decicio:
The thin grass on the Lewiston Hill was striving to turn green as the days inched longer. Late winter was just starting to show the promise of spring, but was yet to bring the first robin from the south. Mom struggled and took her last breath.
The love story began in the mid-1960s and the beginning was, by everyone’s account, a disaster. They met while still young, young and inexperienced, but not totally naive. He was freshly out of the U.S. Navy. She was the mother of four children, all one year apart, and at the end of a train wreck that was her marriage.
Ahh, but when they danced, they cleared the floor. He adored her and she, unaccustomed to such tender loving care, fell in love, ready for a change. They wed and moved to the coast, eager for the change. They found a church and the real change came. They were born again, cloaked in the righteousness of the blood of Christ. Jesus fundamentally changed them, and the love grew.
A few years after returning home to the church she grew up in, they were called to serve as foreign missionaries in Bolivia. Leaving everything they knew, they trained and then left for the Amazon jungles of South America. They clung to each other, and the love grew.
Her health in crisis, they returned to America but continued to serve the mission.
A life of service, defined by two decades of mission work, rewarded them with dear friends and thousands of casual friends and acquaintances, all of whom were touched by their love. There was never much in the way of the material things on which this world puts such import. But the love grew.
They grew old together, and the love grew.
Their children gave them grandchildren, great-grandchildren. He retired from carpentry to pastor the church in his tiny hometown on the prairie. Her health continued a steady decline, and he took care of her, and the love grew.
Finally, time and a stroke made him fully retire. He grew her roses and was never so happy as when he brought them to her, freshly cut, from his garden. And the love grew.
In late summer as fall approached and leaves began to turn colors, cancer knocked on his door. The cancer was mercifully quick. We were all stunned that he preceded her. Her love continued.
The thin grass on the Lewiston Hill was striving to turn green as the days inched longer. Late winter was just starting to show the promise of spring, but was yet to bring the first robin from the south. Mom struggled and took her last breath, their love now eternal.
A celebration of life and memorial for Connie Decicio will be held at 1 p.m., Saturday, April 29, at the Orchards Community Church. 822 Bryden Ave., in Lewiston.
The thin grass on the Lewiston Hill was striving to turn green as the days inched longer. Late winter was just starting to show the promise of spring, but was yet to bring the first robin from the south. Mom struggled and took her last breath.
The love story began in the mid-1960s and the beginning was, by everyone’s account, a disaster. They met while still young, young and inexperienced, but not totally naive. He was freshly out of the U.S. Navy. She was the mother of four children, all one year apart, and at the end of a train wreck that was her marriage.
Ahh, but when they danced, they cleared the floor. He adored her and she, unaccustomed to such tender loving care, fell in love, ready for a change. They wed and moved to the coast, eager for the change. They found a church and the real change came. They were born again, cloaked in the righteousness of the blood of Christ. Jesus fundamentally changed them, and the love grew.
A few years after returning home to the church she grew up in, they were called to serve as foreign missionaries in Bolivia. Leaving everything they knew, they trained and then left for the Amazon jungles of South America. They clung to each other, and the love grew.
Her health in crisis, they returned to America but continued to serve the mission.
A life of service, defined by two decades of mission work, rewarded them with dear friends and thousands of casual friends and acquaintances, all of whom were touched by their love. There was never much in the way of the material things on which this world puts such import. But the love grew.
They grew old together, and the love grew.
Their children gave them grandchildren, great-grandchildren. He retired from carpentry to pastor the church in his tiny hometown on the prairie. Her health continued a steady decline, and he took care of her, and the love grew.
Finally, time and a stroke made him fully retire. He grew her roses and was never so happy as when he brought them to her, freshly cut, from his garden. And the love grew.
In late summer as fall approached and leaves began to turn colors, cancer knocked on his door. The cancer was mercifully quick. We were all stunned that he preceded her. Her love continued.
The thin grass on the Lewiston Hill was striving to turn green as the days inched longer. Late winter was just starting to show the promise of spring, but was yet to bring the first robin from the south. Mom struggled and took her last breath, their love now eternal.
A celebration of life and memorial for Connie Decicio will be held at 1 p.m., Saturday, April 29, at the Orchards Community Church. 822 Bryden Ave., in Lewiston.