Phyllis Leon Green

It is with deep sorrow that we announce the passing of our beloved mother, Phyllis Leon Green. After an incredible life that took her into her 98th year, our dear mother passed eternally into our hearts on March 26, 2022. Phyllis was born on Feb 3, 1925 in Norfolk, Virginia. She was the eldest of two daughters born to Ben and Helen Leon. Phyllis attended Smith College and Carnegie Mellon University as a young woman and was the first female DJ at her college. With a passion for playwriting and theater, Phyllis was also very active in the art world and was friends with many well-known artists including Georgia O’Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz. Phyllis married her first husband, Royce Lee Brown, an OB-GYN, and the couple settled in Longmeadow, MA where they raised three sons, Stuart, Myles and Kenneth. Royce was sadly diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma and Phyllis tirelessly cared for him until his untimely death in 1961. Phyllis then remarried Sydney Green, a neurosurgeon, and moved with her three boys to Bethesda, Maryland. Phyllis and Sydney had one child, a daughter, Sarah. Phyllis decided to go back to school in her 60s and got her law degree from Catholic University. She passed the bar on her first attempt and practiced elder law at the Catholic University legal services clinic for many years. Through Sydney’s illnesses, Phyllis again took on the role of caretaker and gave him his best life until he died in 2005. Phyllis was a force to be reckoned with. She was a fierce protector of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She was a ferocious NYTimes crossword puzzle solver and an avid reader. She was passionate about theater and art and being by the sea. Most of all, she was a survivor, looking always forward and never back. She was the matriarch of our family and the colors in the world are forever dimmed with her passing. The friendships formed at Maplewood Park Place over fifteen years as a resident and the extraordinary love and care from Vida, Florence, Colleen, Ramatu and Bernadette provided her with joy and serenity during the last chapter of her life. Phyllis is survived by her four children, Stuart Brown (Diane Solomon) of Bethesda. MD Myles Brown (Judy Garber) of Newton, MA, Kenneth Brown of Richmond, VA, and Sarah Green (Mark Motyl) of Westport, CT as well as grandchildren Rebecca (Tom Wood), Laura, Jenifer (Jack Varon), Royce, Lianne, Emma, Matthew, Jake, and Caroline and by great-grandchildren Charlie, Teddy and Evan. Phyllis is also survived by her beloved sister, Ellie Lipkin, her nieces Laura Lipkin (Bill Gavzy), Rhonda Lipkin (Michelle Nethercott), her nephew Matthew Lipkin (Donna McCoy) and a large extended family. The family requests that in lieu of flowers that memorial contributions be made to Columbus Community Legal Services at the Catholic University of America or the charity of one’s choice. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And so the end has come. Our mother’s time on earth is done, her spirit is free, and today her body is laid to rest. We all know the end. The images of her last days are fresh in our mind. It was not easy -- not for her and not for those who loved and cared for her. Nor can we forget her last few years, as the hard infirmities of old age came upon her. But we must also remember how she bore these insults to her body with courage and determination. Until the very end, she knew her family and was cheered by every visit. Even when she could no longer hear, or speak, or ring her bell or give her signature “Woo-Hoo” call for assistance, she loved to see her children, her grandchildren, her great-grandchildren, her nieces, nephews, and cousins -- whether in person, in pictures, or by video. We should always remember how bravely she faced these last few years. While her last hard years are fresh and clear in our thoughts, we know that every good story has a beginning and a middle as well as an end. And the life of Phyllis Marue Leon Brown Green, ESQUIRE, was quite a story. It was a story that lasted nearly a century – a century when the world saw both amazing progress and terrible tragedy and changed in ways that were totally unimaginable in 1925 the year that Phyllis was born. So even as we gather today to lay her body to its final rest, it is important to remember the many years that came before the end. For almost her whole life, Phyllis was a beautiful woman – not just attractive, not just pretty, but compellingly beautiful. I will always remember her as the face in the picture from her first wedding. And while we can’t see it in a picture today, her voice was as powerful as her face was beautiful. Her words would resonate across a room or to the last rows of a theater audience. To quote one of her friends from years ago, Phyllis could shout louder than anyone -- without ever raising her voice above a whisper. This combination of historic beauty and a powerful voice defined Phyllis as she was for most of her adult life. We also remember that her physical beauty and powerful voice were more than matched by her courage and determination. How many women begin law school when they are 63 years old? Phyllis did. And of those who try, how many actually complete law school, receive their JD degree, and then pass the Bar? Phyllis did. Once admitted to the Bar, Phyllis worked for nearly 20 years at her law school’s legal services clinic – until she was in her late 80’s. She relished the friendships with her younger colleagues there, and she found enormous satisfaction in helping her clients. She represented dozens of indigent clients, helping them to receive the government benefits they desperately needed and rightfully deserved. During all her years of working at the clinic, Phyllis never lost a single case – how many lawyers can say that? Perhaps that is why she inspired the clinic to create its “Distinguished Alumni” award and to honor her as its first recipient. One reason Phyllis found her legal work so satisfying was her innate sense of what was right and what was fair. She always did what she thought was right, no matter who thought otherwise. And she always said what she thought needed to be said, even if it risked offending those who disagreed. She knew her opinions and advice were not always welcome, but she was never deterred by a lukewarm response from the friends or family she was trying to help. She could change her views if persuaded she was mistaken, but she would never concede as long as she believed she was right. Only a few of us can remember how bravely she faced the years after my father died. I was 10, Myles 5, and Kenny 3, when Royce’s promising career as a junior physician in a Springfield OB-GYN medical practice came to an abrupt end. And so then did our family’s only source of income. We lived for almost 2 years on Social Security Survivor Benefits – about $200 a month, supplemented by gifts from different members of Phyllis’ extended family. By the time she remarried, our family had less than $100 in the bank. Yet for the 3 of us boys, you would hardly have known that anything was amiss. Of course, we knew that our father had died. But our mother made sure that our life went on just as it had before. We were never hungry; we never missed school, or birthdays, or holidays. We especially enjoyed Passover when continued the family tradition of celebrating in our grandparent’s apartment in Virginia Beach. We and all our many aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. squeezed into Nana & Papa Ben’s small apartment, set up for Seder with the table extending from the bedroom hallway right to the front door. And we always ended the meal with Aunt Ellie’s world-famous Jell-O mold. Despite the obvious uncertainty about our family’s future, Phyllis never let us know that she might be worried about anything beyond the usual daily cares of raising 3 young children. While we lived the regular life of 3 young boys, she returned to college to pursue her Master’s degree so that she could begin her new career teaching drama. She acted to all outward appearances as though our situation was completely normal. No performance she ever gave on stage was more convincing than this one. We will never forget her courage through those difficult years. Remembering those years leads me to remind you that what defined Phyllis most of all was her love for her family: Her parents Ben & Helen; Her sister Ellie and brother-in-law Paul; Her two husbands, first Royce, then Sydney; Her 4 children and our husbands and wives; Her 9 grandchildren and their husbands; Her 3 great-grandchildren: Charlie, Teddy and Evan; Plus her aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, and cousins too numerous to count. She loved us all, each and every one, with all her heart, with all her mind, and with all the burning intensity that made Phyllis who she was. Everyone who is part of her family saw and felt this fierce love every day of our lives. Whether it was her immense and unrestrained joy whenever we had success, or the worry she could not hide when we faced difficulties, or the advice she offered whenever she thought we needed it – we knew she could not contain herself because her love for us was absolute, unlimited and uncontrollable. She sincerely and completely believed that everyone in her family deserved only the best and nothing less would do. Her love for family was clear to us every day, but it was probably most visible to others when our family faced exceptional circumstances – either good or bad. We will never forget how Phyllis moved into high-gear to help Sarah take advantage of different opportunities in ballet. We remember how she spent summers in New York so a young teenager could learn with the most famous ballet company in America. We remember how she travelled around the world – first to London, then to Stockholm, and then to Toronto – to help Sarah get settled in each different city as her career progressed from student to star. Phyllis would always be there to do whatever needed to be done – and she totally loved every minute of it. But Phyllis was also the greatest supporter of her family in troubled times as well. When Royce was diagnosed with Hodgkins lymphoma, she was constantly at his side, fighting the whole world to make sure he received the best treatment available, not just in our small hometown of Springfield but at Sloan-Kettering and Johns Hopkins. Sadly, they lost that fight just a few short years before new therapies made Hodgkins a largely curable form of cancer. But despite the sad ending, it was clear to everyone who knew her that Phyllis had done everything humanly possible in the fight for Royce’s life. She was equally determined and equally forceful when I was very sick at Yale and when Kenny was hospitalized at Mass General. Both times, she flew immediately to our bedsides and, with the force of her personality, she made sure that the most senior doctors and department heads were personally supervising our care. Her final struggle to save a loved one lasted more than 35 years, through ups-and-downs and twists-and-turns too numerous to count. Beginning in 1969, when Sydney suffered his first heart attack, this fight against death continued through his next heart attack plus several heart surgeries and then through his diagnosis of lung cancer and surgery for that. The battle ended only when Sydney succumbed to his final illness – which was neither the heart disease nor the cancer that had threatened his life many years earlier. Those of us who saw this fight up close have no doubt that Sydney lived many years longer and many years better because Phyllis was so forceful in her insistence that he must receive the absolute maximum care provided by the best doctors available. When it was a matter of her family’s health, no one could stand in the way of what Phyllis said needed to be done. The last act of Phyllis’ long life began shortly after Sydney’s death and continued for nearly all the 15 years she lived at Maplewood. For most of those years she was an active and engaged part of the Maplewood community. She thoroughly enjoyed her high social status as one of few residents who could still drive her own car and who had regular outside work as she continued to serve clients in the law school clinic. She was enthusiastic about her swimming sessions, her tai chi and other exercise classes, and all the continuing education classes and current events lectures she attended with her new Maplewood friends. She enjoyed meals in the dining room with several regular tables of new friends. But her favorite was always the Sunday brunch buffet -- especially when she was joined by her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces, nephews, cousins or anyone else from her extended family. Her life at Maplewood was powered by her determination to stay physically fit and mentally alert for as long as she possibly could. All the energy and intensity she had used for so many years to protect her family, she now focused on the goal of defending herself from the decline of old age. Even when the limitations of her health made regular life at Maplewood impossible, she inspired, demanded, and received loving care from her dedicated team of aides. There is a good reason why she was known during these years as “the Queen”. We will be eternally grateful to Florence, Vida, Colleen, and Ramatu, and before them Benardette, who cared for our mother so well; without them, this sad day would have come a long time ago. It is Jewish tradition to comfort mourners with the phrase “May her memory be for a blessing.” This message reminds us that while the deceased is no longer physically with us, we can still treasure our memories of their life. We find comfort in understanding that these memories of years gone by are just as real as they were when the departed was here on earth with us. The Phyllis we remember still lives within us today – just as she did last week. And so, Phyllis Marue Leon Brown Green, ESQUIRE continues to be part of us today, and she will be part us tomorrow, for as long as any us are alive.