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 family 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" - 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. Now some nouns: Mom was a musician, world traveler, expert knitter, gifted cook, gracious hostess, 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.
Early Years
First, the biographical facts: Mom was born in Brooklyn in 1926 to children of Jewish immigrants. After her parents’ divorce when she was 6, Mom’s maternal grandparents, specifically her Grandma Sadie, became important caregivers. In Grandma’s house in Brooklyn, Mom and her older sister were surrounded by their seven 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 Sadie my mother learned the meaning of loving children completely, adoringly, and unconditionally.Mom was an avid student, bonding with supportive teachers and suffering at the hands of those who discouraged, or, worse, ignored her. At 11, she moved with her family to Manhattan. What she always called the best part of her life came when she attended the new High School of Music and Art. There, Mom experienced immersion in music, specifically singing, in a way that changed her forever. She met other teens passionate about music and the arts, forming lifelong friendships and choosing her path.
Singing, Teaching, Marriage, and Children
As her vocal talents developed, Mom set her sights on a career as an opera singer. She chose not to go to college, instead undertaking serious private voice study. She was accepted as part of the prestigious Robert Shaw Chorale, which performed at prestigious NYC venues. Mom gave a number of well-received recitals in small halls and attended concerts and opera performances as often as she could. She used her earnings to start an impressive collection of classical 78’s, which she treasured.
But a woman with records needs someone with a record player. Enter my dad. Mom was happy to meet someone who shared her love of music. They were married in 1947 and my brother was born the following year. Mom had to sideline her solo musical ambitions while she cared for my big brother, instead using her talents to teaching. She promoted herself widely and soon had a busy teaching career
Seven years later 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 offering private piano lessons. She continued studying voice and finding performing opportunities. And she continued to develop her other creative gifts. Mom was an expert knitter and a marvelous cook, a person who read cookbooks like they were novels. She kept us warm in beautiful sweaters and opened the world of fine cuisine.
In 1962, we moved to the South Shore of Long Island, a stone’s throw from the beach. Strolling the boardwalk with her beloved poodles was one of Mom’s great joys. She was still teaching piano but developed another latent talent: writing fiction! Mom was a voracious reader and engaging storyteller. (Maybe that’s one reason she loved opera so much: the stories engrossed and enchanted her.) Over the late-60’s and 70’s she wrote two full-length novels, a little steamy, a little seamy, and full of vibrant, gritty characters. Although wasn’t able to get published she never stopped writing. To bring home the bacon Mom kept teaching piano but was now facing a long commute to her students’ homes. It was tiring, and it was time. Mom began to formulate another idea about how to channel her creativity and life-force.
Entrepreneur
In 1970, Mom opened a store called “Le Pavé, The Everything Beautiful Shop.” It was a gorgeously decorated jewel box of a shop containing her handpicked inventory of gifts, needlework, and jewelry. She had a large quilting frame, where people would come to stitch and visit in the welcoming space. There was wool of every color on the wall near the exquisite needlepoint canvases. And Mom’s was one of the first businesses on the East Coast to sell Native American jewelry. After a number of prosperous years, Mom and her partner decided to move to a larger location off the main street. They had more room, but there was less foot traffic. Business suffered. Mom, ever resourceful, added a line of custom cosmetics. However, economic conditions had changed and she saw the handwriting on the wall. After a decade, Mom closed Le Pavé. Sad though it was, Mom was not one to mope or mourn. She reassessed, then moved on to her next incarnation
Alumni Director
At that time Mom’s beloved High School of Music and Art also underwent a reincarnation, as LaGuardia High School for the Arts. The position of Alumni Director opened up and Mom got hired. She was in her element! She worked long hours promoting and raising money for the school. She wrote a newsletter for the alumni community and built a spirited organization that supported the next generation of artists. After my parents separated, Mom moved into the city, where she was close to the cultural life she loved. Then, after eight years there was a change in leadership and she and the Alumni and Friends parted ways. Among Mom’s papers were many letters and cards expressing disappointment and sadness at her departure. Soon thereafter, out of the clear blue, the apartment Mom had been living in was sold. She needed to find a new home. It was time for another pivot.
San Miguel de Allende
Around this time Mom had a number of friends who had moved to San Miguel de Allende, a beautiful small colonial city 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 joy among the cobblestoned streets, fragrant gardens, and happy faces of the Mexican children and American expats there. Mom quickly found her niche, conducting an amateur chorus and teaching opera appreciation classes to children. She devoted herself to raising money for an arts conservatory. In that role, she worked with donors, administrators, and an architect to develop programs and facilities. They ran up against many bureaucratic hurdles but Mom never stopped trying to bring music education to the children there. She bought and decorated a beautiful home and became part of the community, learning her own brand of Spanish and grateful that most people there spoke English. As you would expect, Mom made dear friends with who remained close until her dying day.
Phoenix
By this time I had been unable to visit Mom in Mexico because I was busy raising baby Emma and Ethan here in Phoenix. Mom was overjoyed to welcome a new set of grandchildren, who, in addition to Jane and David Charles, my brother’s children, were her absolute delight. Each time Mom came to Phoenix for a visit it became harder for her to leave. On one trip, a few days before she was scheduled to return to Mexico, a ‘For Sale’ sign went up across the street. After considerable indecision, during which Mom just couldn’t see herself leaving San Miguel, she had a sudden change of heart. I’m thinking the sweet faces of her darling grandkids might have had something to do with it. Mom bought the house across the street and put the wheels in motion to leave Mexico and move to Phoenix.
Traveler, Political Animal, Book Lover
And thus began the last rich chapter of Mom’s extraordinary life. She jumped in to life in Phoenix, making new friends and quickly finding she loved her new life here. She made her home a place of loveliness and surrounded herself with art and music. Thus began a life of travel, learning, and service. She made journeys all over the world, including Italy, the British Isles, China, Russia, Patagonia, New Zealand, Japan, and Turkey. She loved Paris and made numerous trips there. Mom passionately devoted herself to volunteering for our local Democratic precinct, organizing events, making phone calls, 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.
Grandma Extraordinaire
And of course, Mom’s greatest joy was her family. She adored my brother and me, but her abundant love and generosity reached their height with her grandchildren. Mom developed mutually devoted relationships with each of them, always bringing them gifts from her travels, artwork, books, and experiences they’ll never forget. She was deeply proud of all four of them, each unique, each a sweet continuation of Mom’s legacy of love and care.
Final Years: Slower but Still Kicking
As she entered her mid-90’s Mom began to slow down, but only a little. Until age 94 she remained vibrant, healthy, and independent, still driving, attending concerts, and going to her monthly book club meetings. 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. She sold her house and came into ours, living part of the year with us in Northern Arizona and part here in the Valley. Mom remained her optimistic, bright, sassy, irrepressible self, spending time each day reading, corresponding with friends, and watching her beloved old movies. She celebrated her 98th birthday alert and commanding as ever, and talked about her wish to be around to blow out 100 candles.
Sadly, half a year later, Mom took a tumble one afternoon up north and, though she didn’t break anything, was in a lot of pain. Per her wishes, her hospice team kept her comfortable and free from pain. Gentry and I sat with her and I sang her favorite songs and hymns, which comforted her. As she was transitioning, the very last voice she heard was that of her precious Emma, with whom she shared deep love and unending silliness, reminding her cherished grandma of how much she loved her.
Who Me, Old?
Even as she aged, Mom never experienced herself as anything but youthful, exuberant, and beautiful. On the two occasions we visited assisted living facilities to see if she might want to move there, her response was “Why would I want to be surrounded by all these OLD people?” She routinely asked her hospice nurses why she suffered with some of the ailments she had, which were typical changes for an elderly person. When told these were age-related conditions, Mom would scoff and said “Feh! Why would that apply to me?!” My mother’s ability to supersede the unpleasant realities that worry and preoccupy the rest of us was her true superpower. Her smile lit up this world, and her light shone wherever she went.Linda Babbitt Monheit, February 26, 2026 - to September 26, 2024. May she rest in eternal peace, and may her memory ever be a blessing.
