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Nathalie Weaver Hope |
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Nathalie Weaver Hope |
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Nathalie Weaver Hope, aged 93, passed away on December 4, 2014, at the Abington of Glenview, Illinois. Nathalie was born in Waltham, Massachusetts on June 19, 1921 and educated at Friends Seminary in New York City and Radcliffe College in Cambridge, Massachusetts. There she met her future husband, Quentin Manning Hope, in the Harvard Glee Club, and the two were married on May 22, 1944.
They lived in Boston, New York City, and Middletown, Connecticut until moving to Bloomington, Indiana in 1956 where Quentin was Professor of French.
Nathalie and Quentin enjoyed an active social life in Bloomington, especially the abundant musical performances, dinner parties with friends, most of whom were gourmet cooks, and the occasional trips to Paris and other regions of France for more food and drink. She spent summers with her family in their cottage on the coast of Maine entertaining siblings and other guests, and also enjoying its coastal solitude when the others were out on the water. She loved jazz, had a keen appreciation of poetry and the arts and crafts, and devoted much of her time to the cause of Planned Parenthood.
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Nat with Quent's sisters, Helen and Florence, and Gordon, Florence's husband. This was at Helen and Charlie Dibbell's house on Jones Street, in NY city,where the twins were born, and where all the extended family were so often together. |
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Upon the death of Quentin in 2005 she moved to Rockland, Maine, returning to her beloved New England. In 2013 she moved to Illinois to be closer to family. She is survived by her twin sons, Kenneth and Geoffrey, her daughter Persis, two grandsons, Nathaniel and Trevor (Kenneth), and four great-grandchildren, Greta and Mirra (Nathaniel) and Logan and Lyla (Trevor). She is predeceased by her husband Quentin, her brother James Weaver, and her sisters Persis Fitzpatrick and Ann Caufield.
 Geofrey, her son |
She had a fine old age, very good until a year or so ago when she weakened considerably. But she never became stupid or peevish the way I intend to. She had lots of family visits in the last year or two and was always delighted to see us except for just the last time or two when she could barely wake up and didn't really know we were there. Once when I visited her in Rockland and prepared some crab cakes and watercress, with plenty of white wine on the side, as we sat down she said gaily: This is just like playing house! Where now are the lullabies she would sing us? Who will keep me in line by threatening to put a tin ear on me? |
 Ken, her son |
I think of her as strong black coffee. She was salt not sugar, vinegar not honey, hot not mild sauce. Beautiful not cute. She was tart. She was always my favorite mother. |
 Sandy, her niece |
My strongest memory of her is of her playing her cello in the dining room of 26 Jones Street in a flowing skirt with a serious focussed look on her face as the strings quivered and sang ...a private performance for all of us and a reminder of Charlie's annual Christmas Eve violin carolling concerts...And I remember her in their summer cottage in Maine...a quiet, smiling, attentive presence who always managed to have food and drink appear magically just when we needed it to keep our boisterous activities fueled. |
 Roy, her nephew |
Aunt Nathalie I must try to remember The tone of her voice A sound, I had never heard Sweet Reassuring Mysterious Comically acerbic Intelligent Just made you feel good You knew she loved you Though she might have Kept it silently in her heart Wish she could Make another unusual meal Bake another Alaska Smoke a Gauloise Drink gin neat Be the last to bed In the deep of night Mother Grandmother Aunt The N Has gone Up there with the Q The Q & N Together Once again ! |
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