Class: 1970
Major: Psychology
Residence: New Brighton, MN
Deceased: April 17, 2012
Alumni survivors: A. Beaulieu ’84 (Step-child)
Beaulieu, Candace Ellen Passed away on April 17, 2012 at Johanna Shores nursing home. She is survived by son, Mathew R. Beaulieu, Minnetonka; brother, Ted R. Baier, Key West, FL; mother, Verna L. Rosenwald, Roseville, and three stepchildren, Annette M., St. Paul, Edward T., Sedona, AZ, and David E.; San Francisco, CA. Candace completed her undergraduate studies at Carleton College in Northfield, MN where she made lifelong friends, including Karen and Jane.Her graduate studies were completed at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Ohio, where she was awarded a PhD in 1976 for clinical psychology. She completed an internship at the Hennepin County Medical Center where she met her husband, Dean E. Beaulieu, to whom she was married for 30 years. She worked for Hennepin County both at the downtown and the north-side mental health centers. Candace battled various forms of cancer over a period of 20 years; throughout she remained positive and inspirational to those she encountered—making the most of the life she was given. Even through sickness, Candace was a vital and integral part of her family through the last of her days. An avid doll collector, seamstress, gardener, and dog lover, she enjoyed traveling throughout the United States both during her working years as well as during retirement.Memories of Candace, as a daughter, a wife, a mother, and a friend will remain with us always.A private memorial was held for immediate family members. Memorials were directed to the Hennepin County Mental Health Association.““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““When I moved to St. Paul from Chicago, Candy said, “Good. Now we can have a relationship.” She was right. Although obviously we had a long distance relationship for her to be able to make the comment, being a town was different and better. I got to be Godmother for her son Mathew and she got to know my two boys. (Although after bringing my younger son who was 4 at the time to help her paint a room, she said next time I could leave my son home if we were going to try to get something like painting done.) She was first diagnosed with cancer when Mathew was 9 and she fought it for 20 years. So, she got to see Mathew grow up and liked what she saw. She loved gardening and her dogs and is a model of cheerfulness in the face of adversity. I think of her often, especially when gardening. Some of the plants in my garden came from her. A good legacy.Karen Tarrant ’70“““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““`Candy was my roommate at Carleton for all four years. She was truly generous and cheerful, best friend and confidante. Thank heavens for email, because she hated writing letters, but we kept in touch through visits and phone calls until online communication took over in 1995. Then it was easier to share and to be together through her illness, which she never complained about nor let it keep her down. Carleton would not have been Carleton with out Candy. She is remembered every day and cherished.Jane Yaeger Keightley ’70
Comments
Candy was my roommate at Carleton for all four years. She was truly generous and cheerful, best friend and confidante. Thank heavens for email, because she hated writing letters, but we kept in touch through visits and phone calls until online communication took over in 1995. Then it was easier to share and to be together through her illness, which she never complained about nor let it keep her down. Carleton would not have been Carleton with out Candy. She is remembered every day and cherished.
When I moved to St. Paul from Chicago, Candy said, "Good. Now we can have a relationship." She was right. Although obviously we had a long distance relationship for her to be able to make the comment, being a town was different and better. I got to be Godmother for her son Mathew and she got to know my two boys. (Although after bringing my younger son who was 4 at the time to help her paint a room, she said next time I could leave my son home if we were going to try to get something like painting done.) She was first diagnosed with cancer when Mathew was 9 and she fought it for 20 years. So, she got to see Mathew grow up and liked what she saw. She loved gardening and her dogs and is a model of cheerfulness in the face of adversity. I think of her often, especially when gardening. Some of the plants in my garden came from her. A good legacy.
Writing a tribute for Candace has been really difficult because our lives were so intertwined for so many years even though we lived so far apart. When she died, I felt that most of my past history died with her. I first met Candy as one of the "short girls" on our floor in Watson. She was tremendously creative, amazingly patient, and incredibly generous with her time and encouragement. I remember her sharing her pattern for making bean bag chairs, and then staying up all night eating popcorn and futilely trying to help me stuff my chair which then wouldn't fit through the door and was terribly lumpy. On another occasion, she helped me fold a multitude of origami frogs for stringing into a mobile to accompany a poem I'd decided to rebelliously submit in lieu of an assigned essay about Zen enlightenment for Far Eastern Religions. At first our friendship was mostly one-on-one and connected through creativity, cooking, and Deep Thoughts about the Universe, but gradually she introduced me to others in her circle, and my horizons widened even further by seeing others through her eyes. Our emerging politics were also in sync, but she wasn't a revolutionary. She had a wonderful way of sharing confidences while still respecting the privacy of others. To this day, she remains a most powerful model of what it means to be a friend through thick and thin. I visited her every few years throughout our adult lives, and communicated with her irregularly, though we were exchanged calls at some of the most difficult times for both of us. She called me from the hospital both before and within hours after she'd delivered her son Mathew and while she was grappling with responsibilities of parenthood and wondering if she were up to it. There were many other calls about her health, my health, her parents and my parents, her professional challenges, my professional challenges, her love of conservation, flowers, bee tending, prairie restoration; my love of nature, passion for clean water and healthy rivers, and our mutual desires to protect the world in a purer and more healthy environment. When my 46 year old brother David passed away unexpectedly in 2001, Candy despite her chemo came to his funeral in MN. My devastated mother was also uplifted because her own college roommate now living in WI attended Dave's funeral despite her own ill health, and Candace came through as a stalwart college friend to stand by me at the same time. Mom saw this as true colors, and never forgot her her homage. I don't remember exactly how exactly this memory fit into the tapestry of her life or mine, but I do cherish the bookmark of Candace organizing a reunion of her dearest Carleton friends to come together to celebrate our time with her and to meet each other as her Carleton family. She made us all little baskets with toiletries, trekked us through new prairie restoration sections of the arb, and made sure we visited the artistic branch huts on the Green. It was an honor I will never forget, and find myself bound forever by respect to others that she held dear as her life began to draw to its close. Because I was in medicine, I think I might have received a few health communications more detailed than those she had with some of her other dear friends. Her command of medical literature was impressive. She was an incredible fighter, rational in her decisions, and so very brave. She was both an optimist and a realist. My final communications with her several months before she died were about legacy, and how she hoped to die and be remembered. When Karen Tarrant shared the news with me that Candace had passed, I unraveled. The year before, Candace despite facing daunting odds, took the time to help me plan a small butterfly garden in the barren rock spaces beside my new place on the banks of the Illinois River. With her death, I planted her garden suggestions. Some selections didn't make it, but others thrived and came to attract bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds. Candy lives on in my garden, and in my memories. She was certainly one of the most influential persons to ever come into my life.
Writing a tribute for Candace has been difficult. Our lives were tightly intertwined even though we'd always lived far apart from each other, so our conversations were seldom trivial or mundane. When Candy died, I felt that most of my past history died with her. I first met Candy as one of the "short girls" on our floor in Watson. She was tremendously creative, amazingly patient, and incredibly generous with her time and encouragement. I remember her sharing her pattern for making bean bag chairs, and then staying up all night eating popcorn and futilely trying to help me stuff my chair which then wouldn't fit through the door and was terribly lumpy. On another occasion, she helped me fold a multitude of origami frogs for stringing into a mobile to accompany a poem I'd rebelliously decided to submit in lieu of the assigned essay about Zen enlightenment in Far Eastern Religions. At first our friendship was mostly one-on-one and connected through creativity, cooking, and Deep Thoughts about the Universe, but gradually she introduced me to others in her circle, and my horizons widened even further by seeing others through her eyes. Our emerging politics were also in sync, but neither of us were activists. She had a wonderful way of sharing confidences while respecting the privacy of others. To this day, she remains a most powerful model of what it means to be a friend through thick and thin. I visited her every few years throughout our adult lives, and communicated with her irregularly, though we exchanged calls at some of the most difficult times for both of us. She called me from the hospital within hours after she'd delivered her son Mathew and while grappling with the responsibilities of parenthood and wondering if she were up to it. There were many other calls about her health, my health, her parents and my parents, her professional challenges, my professional challenges, her love of conservation, flowers, bee tending, prairie restoration; my love of nature, passion for clean water and healthy rivers, and our mutual desires to protect the world with a purer and more healthy environment. When my 46 year old brother David passed away unexpectedly in 2001, Candy despite her chemo came to his funeral in MSP. My devastated mother was also grateful and touched because her own college roommate and lifelong friend had come from out-of-state to attend Dave's funeral, and Candace came through to stand by out-of-state me at the same time. I don't remember exactly how this event fit into the tapestry of her life or mine, but I do cherish the bookmark of Candace organizing a reunion of her dearest Carleton friends to come together to celebrate our time with her and to meet each other on the Carleton campus. Jane Yaeger was there all the way from England. Karen Tarrant, though still in MN, was dealing with difficulties of her own at the time so it was wonderful of her to carve out the day for Candy's desired reunion at Carleton. Candace made us all little baskets with toiletries, had a guide trek us through new prairie restoration sections of the arb, and made sure we visited the artistic branch huts on the Green. It was an honor I will never forget, and find myself bound to those she held most dear as her life began to draw to its close. Because I was in medicine, I think I might have received health communications more detailed than those she shared with most of her other close friends. Her command of medical literature was impressive. She was an incredible fighter, rational in her decisions, and so very brave. She was both an optimist and a realist. My final communications with her two months before she died were about legacy, and how she hoped to die and be remembered. When Karen Tarrant shared the news with me that Candace had passed, I unraveled. The autumn before her spring death, Candace despite her failing vitality took the time to help me research and plan a small butterfly garden in the barren rock spaces along side my new home on the banks of the Illinois River. With her death, I planted her garden suggestions. Some selections didn't make it, but others thrived and came to attract bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds. Candy lives on in my garden, and in my memories. She was certainly one of the most influential persons to ever come into my life.
This is a query. Did you get my tribute to Candace Baier Beaulieu submitted 3 days ago? If so, was it set aside for any reason like being redundant or too long? If not, should I try to reconstruct it and send it again? I tried x3 to send a message through this site, but it wouldn't go through. Is this an Apple incompatibility that I can bypass through e-mail? Anne Dickison Home phone: (309) 698-9890 Cell phone: (309) 669-9733 email: ADickison@aol.com