Phyllis Elaine Leidy

My earliest meaningful memory of Aunt Phyllis was when she came to stay with us for a while in Vernon Hills. She’d often watch us when my parents needed a break or had to go somewhere, and I recall her taking me with her in her car on multiple occasions. This was a special time for me because she treated me differently than other adults treated kids. She was gentle, laughed a lot, talked to me about important things, and she always included me in her fun. Nobody had a better laugh than Aunt Phyllis. When we were under her care, she always played the record player at home or turned on the radio when we were in her car. She’d find the music, crank it up, and she would sing like nobody was listening and get me to do the same thing. I LOVED that and I was sure that she knew the words to every song ever written. She’d often tune into radio station WMBI [Moody Bible Institute] in Chicago but sometimes we’d just sing acapella. Two that I recall were Count Your Blessings and Heavenly Sunlight. It kind of went with the Joy that I always found when she was around. Also memorable to me were two songs that got played off her records every chance she got, “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” and “Bridge Over Troubled Waters”. These were pretty deep for my age, but she explained that there were songs like this that were about Jesus, even though the people who wrote the song didn’t know it. It took many years for me to understand what she was saying but she was right. I don’t recall how long she stayed with us, but I do recall being profoundly sad when it was time for her to move on. What made up for it was giving us our own Uncle Carl. I recall being very nostalgic about all this maybe 20 years later when I had my own children because she still always treated them with that same, deference, gentleness and love. Even after all that, Aunt Phyllis surprised me well into my adult years by watching her engage online with believers and non-believers who she knew personally. She was an incredibly deep woman who shared her unwavering faith and stood her ground in patience when she knew it mattered. Privately, she shared with me her personal pain over several whom she knew who had "walked away". Everyone mattered to her, as did their eternity. All of this boils down to something I recall her saying when giving a eulogy at my mother's funeral, "Pat showed the rest of us how to do life." I would reiterate that exact same thought about Aunt Phyllis. She always remained the same. It’s just who she was. She always took time for “the least of these”, and that’s a pretty amazing legacy. “Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your Lord.” - Matthew 25:23