Linda Babbitt Monheit Memorial
On February 8th, 2026, we will be gathering to celebrate the life, love, and light of Linda. This site contains information on Linda's life, her memorial, and ways to celebrate her legacy.If you have any questions, please feel free to email her daughter, Lisa Monheit, at [email protected]
Memorial Information
When: February 8th, 2026, 2:00pm
Where: 10033 s 46th St. Phoenix, AZ 85044
Who's Hosting: Linda's daughter, Lisa, will be hosting this celebration of life.
What to expect: We'll be sharing stories, photos, videos, and memories of Linda. In classic Linda fashion, there will be food provided for all.
Dress code: We'd love if you wore your "Linda Best." She was a fantastical dresser with an unparalleled wardrobe. Wear whatever feels fantastic to you!
How to Contribute
Linda was an avid musician, music teacher, and supporter of the arts. Namely, she loved sharing the joys of classical music with children. In Linda's memory, we will be collecting donations to sponsor a Scholarship for the Phoenix Children's Choir. You can donate at the link below. Please feel free to share this link with anyone you think may want to honor Linda with a contribution.
We would love if you could share any pictures or videos you have of Linda throughout the years. You can add media to the Google Drive folder (link below). We'll be displaying pictures and videos during the gathering.
About Linda
by her daughter, Lisa
Where do I begin to tell you about my mother, Linda Babbitt Monheit? Let’s begin with a few adjectives: creative, optimistic, brilliant, brave, and loving. Mom was a musician, world traveler, adventurous and gifted cook, adoring mother and grandma, and ardent champion of democracy. She put her talents and endless energy into her passions, and those who knew her never forgot her. My mother made her life an extraordinary work of art, because she was an extraordinary woman.First, the biographical facts: Mom was born in Brooklyn in 1926 to unhappily married parents, both the children of Jewish immigrants. After their divorce when Mom was 6, Mom’s maternal grandparents, specifically her Grandma Sadie, became primary caregivers. In Grandma’s house, Mom and her older sister were surrounded by their 7 teenaged aunts and uncles, who formed a family of erstwhile-siblings and forever-friends. Grandma’s home was full of art, music, books, and big personalities. Mom and her sister sang duets from an early age, and Mom’s rich, powerful soprano was praised and encouraged. From Grandma, my mother learned the meaning of loving children completely, adoringly, and unconditionally.
Mom always loved school and was an avid student, bonding with supportive teachers and suffering at the hands of those who discouraged, or, worse, ignored her. When she was 11, they moved to the Upper West Side of Manhattan. The best part of her lifecame when she attended the new High School of Music and Art. Mom experienced immersion in music, specifically singing, in a way she had never imagined. She met other teens passionate about music and the arts, forming lifelong friendships with many of them.As her vocal talents developed, Mom set her sights on a career as a concert and opera singer. She chose not to go to college, but instead began serious voice study. She auditioned for and was accepted as part of the prestigious Robert Shaw Chorale, which performed at City Center among other venues. Mom was in her element. She gave a number of well-received recitals in small halls in NYC, and aimed for a solo career. She attended concerts and opera performances as often as she could, hearing greatest vocal artists of her day at their prime. These formed her artistic sensibility. She used her earnings to start and maintain an impressive collection of 78’s, which she treasured.
But a woman with records needs someone with a record player. Enter my dad. My parents met through a friend, and Mom was happy to find someone who shared her love of music. They had a whirlwind romance and Dad proposed. They were married when Mom was 21. My brother was born the next year. Mom had to sideline her solo musical pursuits while she cared for him, turning to teaching music. She promoted her talents and had a thriving teaching business.Seven years later, after one of her recitals, Mom and Dad went on a picnic north of the city for July 4th. The weather turned bad and they got caught in a rainstorm. Mom got soaked to the skin and subsequently came down with bronchitis. The bronchitis turned to life-threatening pneumonia and Mom was hospitalized. Her case was so severe, doctors had no choice but to treat her with a drug they knew would damage much of her hearing. She was saved but her hearing was sacrificed. Mom spent the rest of her life, from age 29 til 98, compensating for this loss and most people she met never knew! Mom became an expert lip-reader and refused to allow her disability to define her.A year after she recovered, I came along and our family moved to Great Neck, Long Island. Dad was a children’s librarian and Mom continued teaching little ones, along with picking up private piano students. She continued taking voice lessons but, as my brother and I stubbornly took our time becoming independent, Mom had us to look after. She was an expert and intrepid cook, who taught me the skills I use every day and which I have passed on to my daughter Emma. Mom read cookbooks like they were novels, and had a stack of them by her bedside. She loved nothing more than trying something new, and opened a world of cuisine to us through her adventurousness.In 1962, my father got the job of Library Director in Wantagh and moved to the south shore, close to Jones Beach. Mom loved the beach and taking a walk on the boardwalk in all kinds of weather became part of our lifestyle. While I was having a fairly typical 1960’s LI childhood, Mom continued teaching piano. She drove all over the north shore of Long Island, teaching the children of many rich and famous business types, coming home late and doing the housework while I slept. She was always home for lunch, and she and I enjoyed each other’s company then.
When I was 13, Mom opened a store in Huntington: "Le Pave, The Everything Beautiful Shop." It was a gorgeously decorated jewel box of a space containing Mom’s handpicked inventory of unique gifts, needlework, and jewelry. She had a large quilting loom, and women would come and work on the quilt while sharing stories and companionship in the lovely shop. She had a wall of every color of wool, near the exquisite needlepoint canvases, many of which she had commissioned for the shop. And she was one of the first shop owners on the East Coast to sell Native American jewelry. After a few years, though, Mom and her partner made the decision to move the shop from the main street to a side street. There, they had more space but, unfortunately, less foot traffic, and the business suffered. Mom, ever resourceful, began a line of custom cosmetics and moved the shop again, this time to a space closer to the action but upstairs. After almost a decade, Mom closed the business for good.
But, never one to mope or mourn, Mom moved on to her next incarnation.Over the year, Mom never lost touch with many of her high school friends. At that time, the High School of Music and Art also had a reincarnation, as LaGuardia High School for the Arts. A position as Alumni Director opened up, and Mom got hired for it. At that point, Mom became a LIRR commuter, working to raise money for the school and its programs, writing a newsletter for the alumni community, and building a spirited organization that supported the endeavors of the next generations of young performers, painters, sculptors, and other artists. After one of her aunts died, my parents separated and Mom moved into the city, where she was closer to all the music, museums, and culture she loved. She continued working at the Alumni & Friends for 8 years, after which she and the organization parted ways. There was a change in leadership that led to her leaving. Among Mom’s papers I found many letters and cards expressing outrage and sadness at her departure.Meanwhile, out of the blue, Mom’s cousin decided to sell the apartment Mom had been living in. Seemed like time for another makeover.Mom had a number of friends who had moved to San Miguel de Allende, a beautiful small colonial town in Mexico well-known for its thriving arts scene, including an annual chamber music festival. Mom visited San Miguel and fell in love with it, finding her next act among the cobblestoned streets, fragrant gardens, and the happy faces of Mexican children and expat Americans in San Miguel. She quickly found her niche, conducting an amateur chorus, taking watercolor painting classes, and teaching opera appreciation classes to children. She also devoted herself to a project to raise money for an arts conservatory. She worked with donors, administrators, and an architect to develop programs and facilities. They ran up against many bureaucratic hurdles but Mom persevered while continuing her classes and conducting. She bought and decorated a beautiful house, and became part of the fabric of the community, learning her own brand of Spanish and grateful that most people there spoke English. As to be expected, Mom made many friends who remained close until her dying day.I, meanwhile, had been unable to visit her in Mexico because I was busy having two beautiful kids here in AZ. Mom was overjoyed to welcome a new set of grandchildren in addition ot Jane and David Charles, my brother’s children. Every time Mom came for a visit it became harder and harder for her to leave. On one trip, when Ethan was about 4, a few days before Mom was scheduled to return to Mexico, a For Sale sign went up across and down the street from us. After considerable indecision, as we were on the way to the airport for her to fly back, Mom had a sudden change of heart! We came back and Mom put the wheels in motion to leave San Miguel and buy the house down the street.
And thus began the last rich chapter of Mom’s extraordinary life. She settled in to life in Phoenix, making her house a masterpiece of loveliness. She surrounded herself with beautiful things and began a life of travel and of service. She made journeys and friends all over the world, including, but certainly not limited to, Italy, the British Isles, China, Russia, Patagonia, New Zealand, Australia, Japan, and Turkey. She loved Paris and made numerous trips there. Mom also devoted herself to volunteering for our local Democratic precinct, making phone calls, organizing events, door knocking, and doing whatever she could to engage people to support our democracy at the ballot box. Her contributions were invaluable. She joined a wonderful book club and loved her friends there, who loved her right back. She continued attending until the last year of her life.
And of course, Mom’s greatest joy was her family. She adored and spoiled my brother and me, and that abundant love and generosity continued with her two sets of grandchildren. Mom loved to hear Jane perform and never missed one of her concerts at the Musical Instrument Museum. She visited David Charles in Boston, proud of his accomplishments in business. And she gloried in her second set of grandchildren, Emma and Ethan. She and Emma had a special bond of sassiness and fun. And she and Ethan shared a deep love of music and language. Mom was very proud of Ethan’s cello playing and loved to hear him play. She was so proud of all four of them, each unique, each a sweet continuation of Mom’s legacy of love and care.
All throughout her long life, my mother had been an avid reader and committed storyteller. Perhaps that’s one reason she loved opera so much: the stories engrossed, engaged, and enchanted her. She had always loved to write, and along the years she wrote three full-length novels, a little steamy, a little seamy, and full of vibrant, gritty characters. The manuscripts remain in safekeeping and our family will figure out what to do with them as we ponder her legacy and how to best honor it.As she entered her mid-90’s Mom finally began to slow down, but only a little. Until age 94 she remained vibrant, healthy, and independent, still driving and still attending concerts regularly. She stayed in her home, with part-time help, until age 96, at which point we decided as a family that she’d do best living with Gentry and me. We sold her house and she came into ours, living half the year with us up in Northern Arizona mountains, and half here in the Valley. Mom remained her bright, happy, friendly self, spending time each day reading, corresponding with friends, and watching her beloved old movies. She celebrated her 98th birthday alert and vibrant as ever, and talked about her wish to blowing out 100 candles.
Sadly, Mom took a tumble one afternoon up north. Though she didn’t break anything, she was in a lot of pain. Per her wishes, the hospice team kept her comfortable. As she began transitioning, Gentry and I comforted her. The very last voice she heard was that of her precious Emma, reminding her grandma how much she loved her.Even as she aged, Mom never experienced herself as anything but youthful, exuberant, and lovely. On two occasions we visited assisted living facilities to see if they might be a good fit for her and her response was always “Why would I want to be surrounded by all those OLD people?” She routinely asked her hospice nurses why she suffered with some of the ailments she had, things that would be expected in an elderly person. When told the answer, that these were age-related conditions, Mom always scoffed and said “Feh! Why would that apply to me?!” Mom’s ability to supersede the unpleasant realities that worry and preoccupy the rest of us was her true super power. She lit up this world, and shone her light wherever she went.Linda Babbitt Monheit, 2/6/26 to 9/26/24. May she rest in eternal peace, and may her memory ever be a blessing.