Nancy R. Krupp

Nancy R. Krupp

Eulogy

April 14, 2020

Nancy was a special person.  To me and Vicki, to Larry, Susan, Eric, Karen and Scott, who are gathered here, and to Roland for many years, she was Aunt Nancy. 

Nancy was 87 when she died. 

Nancy was born in Wallingford, CT in the midst of the Great Depression to Harry and Edith Krupp, then 32 and 24 years old.  Four years later, Nancy’s only sibling, our father, Alan, was born.  From all accounts, Nancy was a really happy kid.  Nancy had mental health challenges and was not able to thrive in school.  So, Edie and Harry brought tutors into the house to teach Nancy.  They also wanted Nancy to get used to other kids, so they spent a lot of time at the beach, specifically, Chalker Beach in Old Saybrook, CT, where the cottage still in the extended family  seems to trace its acquisition back to Nancy and her particular needs.           

At some point, we think after dad was high school age, Edie and Harry felt they could no longer care for Nancy adequately at home.  Nancy became a ward of the State of Connecticut and lived at what was then called the Mansfield Training School and Hospital.  Edie and Harry would take Nancy home to Wallingford on weekends, would bring her to our house in Manchester for weekend visits and for holidays, and would take her out to lunch.  I remember Nancy hating to go back to Mansfield – how it tore at her parents every time they brought her back.

Rabbi Harold Kushner wrote that “When a mentally disabled child is born, the religious question we often ask is “Why does God let this happen?”  The better question to pose is to ask, ‘What kind of community should we be so that mental disability isn’t a barrier to the enjoyment of one’s full humanity?’”  Fortunately, the prevailing thought about how to care for those with mental disabilities shifted away from institutionalization.  In the late 1970s or early ‘80s, Nancy moved out of Mansfield and moved to Manchester to live in various group homes run by MARC, Inc.  At various times, Nancy lived near the Parkade, across from Shady Glen, and most recently on Quaker Road.

The community at MARC was like a family to Nancy until she died last Wednesday from complications from the novel corona virus.  In her last years, Nancy was frail, suffered from a variety of ailments, and walked quite stooped over, but she was tough; she was gentle and soft-spoken most of the time, she was firm and knew how to get what she needed, and some at MARC, who cared for Nancy for many years, called her “sophisticated,” that is to stay, sylish.

Nancy never went out without her handbag, or her wristwatch.  She had quite a collection of wristwatches.  Nancy in her younger years at MARC would go to the senior center to do “work” and later just to spend time there.  She would sometimes get her haircut – at the parlor, she would say—and would always wear jewelry, usually a large Jewish star necklace, and bracelets.  Nancy loved having her nails polished. 

Nancy was smart and had a better memory than most of us.  Nancy could read and write.  She wrote in a shaky hand, often with hyphens between the words.  At certain times in her life Nancy would write us and others, like Terry Gellin and some of her mother’s friends, multiple letters per week.  She always sent us birthday cards.  Nancy signed all of her cards and letters:  “Love, Nancy,”  I remember a Passover Seder that my dad was running.  I probably was about bar mitzvah age, and Dad called on Nancy to read a long Hebrew passage.  She hadn’t been tipped off beforehand as I probably would have had to be, but she read the Hebrew flawlessly.  I was amazed.   

Nancy could remember names and dates, birthdays, holidays, and children’s names.  She would always ask what this one or that one was doing; and she would remember the answers.   She would ask her MARC caretakers about their children.  

For Nancy, family was incredibly important.  She loved to write to family members, and to get mail.  I mentioned Nancy’s handbag.  I think Nancy stayed fit by lifting it, opening it, checking it; it was heavy, stuffed quite literally until it could not be closed with letters she had received. 

She was always so happy to get visitors.  If you sat close, she would take your hand in hers.  Like her mother, Nancy liked to touch. 

Nancy looked forward to every visit.  In the last twenty years, many visits went something like this:  Call Nancy a couple days before and give her a time.  She would talk about the visit and look forward to it until the day arrived.  She would be ready on time, and we would head to Shady Glen.  The order never varied – grilled cheese sandwich (no pickle), cole slaw, strawberry milkshake and a small chocolate sundae (no nuts, no cherry).  She would eat painfully slowly.  And she would ask about everyone.  How is Alan?  Sometimes her questions were rhetorical.  “What’s your daughter’s name?” You know her name, Nancy.  “Joanna.”  Right.  Nancy would take the smallest spoonfuls of ice cream sundae on her spoon and delicately bring it to her lips.  No one could make a small sundae last longer.  Then after lunch maybe a trip to Bolton Lake to look at the lake or to Walgreens to buy a couple packages of plain M&Ms.  I’m sure the house on Quaker Rd. had an entire cabinet of plain M&Ms.  Once back at Quaker Rd., Nancy would tell the staff every single detail that happened during the outing. 

The residents and staff at MARC have been incredible to Nancy.  Nancy has lived with two MARC residents for more than a decade.  Staff took Nancy out for lunch, to have her hair done, to get her favorite ice coffee, or for different events.  Nancy loved going to the Big E – the Eastern States Exposition – in West Springfield, until she got too frail to make the trip.  MARC would celebrate Nancy’s birthday in high style – not that Nancy would you let her forget her birthday – and sometimes moved heaven and earth to get Nancy to family events, like Karen and Scott’s wedding in Vermont 3 years ago. 

But it wasn’t just MARC staff helping Nancy; Nancy had a big impact on her caretakers.  After Nancy died on Wednesday, we received the following note from Sandy, who has known Nancy for more than three years and cared for her at Quaker Road. 

Sandy wrote this note to Nancy:

It took me a while to process and get the chance to fully comprehend that your gone. You just told me a week and a half ago “I love you sandy” and asked if I would remember you. I didn’t think much of it then but now I know that was a goodbye. I’ll always remember you being the first person I cared for when I started this career, and how fragile you were, as if you were precious glass that could crumble to pieces with a little too much pressure. You sure were tough and not scared to speak your mind even though, you were just the smallest thing... I’ll remember sitting in your room, you discussing the wedding you were so excited to pick a dress for and matching shoes that whole first year almost! You loved and missed your family every single day I was always there with you when you’d talk about them. I definitely don’t think in the least that you ever forgot anything! If someone told you, you’d ask us about it later. I’ll always remember how big your smile was and your eyes would shine whenever you’d see “the baby”! (Kaylee). You’d ask if I was ever gonna get married and would say “ ahh you don’t wanna husband huh?” Lol ������ sometimes you’d say you were gonna smack me but I know you didn’t really mean it , and then I’d say hey that’s not nice and you’d say sorry! Then tell me you love me ♥️ I’ll remember getting your favorite cheeseburgers from McDonald’s and combing your hair for you, and how excited you’d get that family was coming to visit you. Rip NK you made it 87 years and I’m glad I got to say I’ll see you again soon. I know your mommy and daddy are happy to see you again! I LOVE YOU and I won’t Ever forget you ������������������

As Sandy obviously recognized, Nancy was a special person, full of humanity, insight, compassion, and love.  She enriched our lives and the lives of so many others.   

Obituary

Nancy Krupp, 87, of Manchester, CT, died on April 8, 2020 of complications related to Covid-19. Nancy was born in Wallingford on November 5, 1932 and lived her life in Connecticut.  For over 25 years, Nancy lived in a group home in Manchester under the kind, nurturing care of staff from MARC, Inc. Nancy was a gentle person who had challenges in life that were eased by her caregivers and her family. Nancy loved having her hair done and her fingernails painted; treasured wristwatches and radios and getting mail; never forgot a name and always wanted to hear about others; and looked forward to going to Shady Glen with her family for a grilled cheese sandwich and a strawberry milkshake. Nancy was predeceased by her parents, Edith and Harry Krupp, of Wallingford and Manchester; and her sister-in-law, Judy-Arin Krupp, of Manchester.  She is survived by her brother, Alan F. Krupp, MD, of Newton, MA (formerly of Manchester); nephew Peter Krupp, and his wife Vicki, of Needham, MA; nephew Larry Krupp of Arlington, MA; niece Susan Krupp, and her husband Eric Brown, of Lexington, MA; niece Karen Cheyney, and her husband Scott Rebhun, of Grantham, NH, and seven great-nieces and -nephews. Nancy is also fondly remembered by her devoted caregivers and friends at MARC, including Tracey, Sylviu, Paul, Delci, Carolyn, Peter, LaToya, Sharkithia, Kathleen, Kaitrina and so many others. A private graveside funeral service will be held Tuesday, April 14, 2020 at Beth Sholom Memorial Park in Manchester. On Tuesday from 4:30-5:50 pm, a virtual shiva will be held with Nancy’s family and friends.  In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to MARC, Inc., 151 Shelton Road, Manchester, CT 06042.

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