Emily Bernard

Emily Bernard, a woman of strong faith and deep friendships and a loving mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, passed away quietly on Jan. 8. She was 91.

A New Jersey native and the only daughter of eight children born to polish immigrants, she raised a family in Texas, made lifelong friends and gave countless hours of service to the Catholic Church.

She also was an avid fan of the Dallas Cowboys and even was one of the original holders of the bonds that financed Texas Stadium. She was passionate about Texas A&M University, which her son attended.

Family lore is that she started life in charge as her parents' only girl, and she never hesitated to tell people what she thought. She loved the beach and enjoyed knitting, crocheting and painting.

She had an especially strong connection with the church, especially All Saints in Dallas in later life, where she coordinated volunteers and touched the lives of many friends and parishioners. She enjoyed playing bells.
She not only helped with fundraising when the church wanted to build a new school, but she worked in its office until age 85.

Emily felt a special connection with the late Pope John Paul II because he was Polish and the same age. She once told a Dallas Morning News reporter the two of them had the same philosophy that you're never too old to serve.

In a note to one of her grandchildren about that newspaper story, she joked, "How many people do you know that have an in' with Pope John Paul?"
Known as Em, Midge and later Mom, Grandma, Grams and G.G., was born Emily Ziobro on Nov. 9, 1919, in Newark, N.J., to Stanley and Christine Ziobro, who'd emigrated from Poland in the early 1900s.
She lived in Newark until she married Ted Bernard and moved across the railroad tracks to Elizabeth, N.J. She kept a trace of the Jersey accent even decades after moving away.

According to family legend, Ted was the "big catch," landed while he sat on the next-door neighbor's porch in Elizabeth, introduced by his sister. He was a veteran of both the Army and the Navy.

They eloped and married in Cheraw, S.C., on Jan. 31, 1941, but her mother insisted on a second ceremony, Feb. 19, 1941, at St. Casimir's Church in Newark.

In 1942, their son, Ted, was born, and the following year, they had a daughter, Pat. Emily worked and raised her two exceptional children, moving to Texas in 1952, suffering through a record hot summer in Dallas in a home on Hudnall Street without air conditioning.

The family purchased a home the next year in Plymouth Park in Irving, the first subdivision in Dallas County with air conditioning. They picked a lot with an address that would be easy to remember: 1620 Mayflower.

She worked three decades at Employers Mutual Casualty, until her retirement in 1983. Her husband died in December 1984.

Emily is survived by a brother, Stanley "Stosh" Ziobro, of Fort Lauderdale, Fla.; her son, Ted, and his wife, Gail, of Plano, Texas; her daughter, Pat, and her husband, John Hanna, of Holly Lake, Ranch, Texas, five grand-children and six-great grandchildren.

Ted and Gail Bernard have a daughter, Chelly, and a son, Michael. Chelly and her husband, Charlie, live in Katy, Texas, with their children, Maddie and Ryan. Michael and his wife, Julie, live in Carrollton, Texas.

Pat and John Hanna have three sons, John, Robert and Richard. Richard and his wife, Susan, live in Atlanta with their daughters, Katelynn Emily, Lindsey and Lydia. Son John Hanna lives with his daughter, Karly, in Topeka, Kan. Robert is an attorney in Santa Barbara, Calif.

Emily will be laid to rest next to her husband Ted at Calvary Hill Cemetery in Dallas on Wednesday, January 12, 2011. Following the interment, a funeral service will be held at 11:00 a.m. at All Saints Catholic Church, 5231 Meadowcreek Drive, Dallas, Texas 75248 with Bishop Mark Seitz officiating.

The family asks that instead of flowers, donations be made either to All Saints Catholic School, 7777 Osage Plaza Parkway, Dallas, Texas, 75252, or to Day Spring Assisted Living, 6400 Cheyenne Trail, Plano, Texas, 75023.

The following tribute to Emily was written by her grandson, J.D. and it seems so very appropriate to include it here for all to enjoy.


Grandma

Of all the memories I have of my grandmother, one - a small part of one, really - jumped to the front of my mind in the hours before the sad news of her passing was confirmed.

I can't remember much of the context, but it was a family gathering. I don't remember whether Texas had just started a lottery, or whether we'd seen a news report about a huge lottery jackpot, or who long we were talking about how lucky it would be to win so much money.

Grandma's reaction?

She said, "I would buy new pews for the church."
We younger folks laughed, of course. If we suddenly came into millions of dollars, pews would not be at the top of the list. There would be cars to buy, jobs to quit and far-off places to visit.

But as I've grown older, I've come to cherish grandma's answer.

Perhaps because she's with me every Sunday in church.

Every church, from Most Pure Heart of Mary to the Victory Tabernacle, has them, these remarkable women. They come every Sunday; they love and teach the little ones and take pride at teenagers' accomplishments; they sew banners, prepare the altar, cook casseroles for shut-ins and, yes, give money. They serve on committees, do office work and sing, wonderfully.

It's been true since the earliest days. The Bible doesn't say too much about the life of Mary, the blessed mother, after Jesus' resurrection, but I imagine her working with the apostles in the same way. If Peter was the church's rock, then these women are the beams of the roof, sheltering us.



And there, in the center, is my grandmother.

I don't mean to suggest that she was ordinary, just one of millions, in her time on Earth; far from it. We've known her as a sister, a mother, a grandmother and, of course, G.G., and she loves us all and more than occasionally tried to keep us straight.

But at this point, in this context, I remember the woman of faith. She naturally revered the last Pope - Polish and the same age - but her faith was, in its quiet, steady way, far deeper. After all, she kept working in the office of her parish school even when her eyesight began to diminish. I have no doubt that, had she'd been so lucky as to win the lottery, she'd have bought the pews - and more, besides.

Many people have walked in darkness, then seen the great light. Some of us have wandered away from Jesus for a while and found our way back. We need guideposts and markers and landmarks of faith.

And my grandmother was one of those, always on the landscape, like a line of trees in the distance telling pioneers on the rolling Kansas prairie that there is a river, a place to end your thirst and get shelter and rest.

I'm confident now - in a way that I might not have been in the past - that I will meet grandma again in the future. In my church, we sometimes console ourselves in times like this by reminding ourselves that our recently departed member has transferred his or her membership to the Church Triumphant.

And there's one more thing that will stay with me because of grandma.




Still every now and then, I throw away a few dollars on lottery tickets, probably more to enjoy the short time of fantasizing about what I would do with the money rather than any real sense that it's what God has in mind for me. And when I do, thoughts about how I could set aside some of it for my church or some larger purpose always start to work their way in, slowly at first, then more urgently.

And for that, I have my grandmother to thank.