Messages for Lindsay
Some thoughtful messages from close family. If you have a message you'd like to
share with Lindsay, please use our "Contact" page.
From:
Mom
Lesley Clements
What I do know about my precious daughter is that she was a beautiful, brave, and stubborn young woman whose life was cut short by an invisible yet formidable enemy, one which would stretch the limits of her mother’s love and my emotional endurance. She did not ask for the illness that would end her life and my sadness at her passing is almost unbearable. Yet the grace she showed during her last days will give me the strength to honor her memory and share her story.
What I did not know about my precious daughter since her death has humbled me. Not only was she beautiful, brave, and stubborn, she was also compassionate, caring, and selfless. Despite her own struggles, Lindsay focused her positive energy and time on others. I have been truly overwhelmed by stories from those touched by her acts of kindness. In a society obsessed with physical appearance Lindsay felt protected by the veil of virtual media where she could be judged for the sincerity of her actions and not the weight on her scale.
To so many she was a kind word in an unkind world, a high-five during a Peloton ride to push a friend just a little harder, a small gift selected with care to brighten a grey day, and oh the Excel spreadsheets she could create! Her highly analytical mind, a product of her OCD and perfectionism, was valued by her workplace friends and Peloton buddies alike as she surveyed work process records and organized ride schedules.
To me she was a constant stream of phone calls and texts, frequent demands requiring my immediate attention, something broken needing to be fixed, or just letting off steam about a bad day at work; my exhaustion and frustration often getting the better of me. The more she reached out to me for support the more resentful I felt. Many a cross word was spoken, yet soon forgiven. Twenty years of counseling and psychological evaluation gave me an understanding of the workings of her mind which was unable to stop the cycle of negative thinking demanding immediate resolution to ease her anxiety.
Lindsay’s too short life was accentuated by so many great moments and personal achievements of which she and her mom and dad are immensely proud. She was a great athlete who excelled in running breaking records and achieving the ultimate runners high of completing a marathon. She was a great student completing her BS in Psychology in between frequent inpatient treatments for her eating disorder. She was a great employee at US Bank receiving high praise from her peers and eventually a promotion which she would sadly never live to enjoy.
Yet, none of these “greats” compares to the grace and courage she showed in the fight against the disease that was reflected in every facet of her life. Frequent hospitalizations punctuated with periods of remission were the hallmarks of that life. She was terrified of the treatment necessary to recover a healthy weight where her fear of food appeared to grow not diminish. The food necessary to sustain her life would become symbolic of punishment for not following the rules while in treatment. The treatment temporarily restored her weight but continued to erode her mind. As her mom I feel guilt about my desire for her to “get better” to ease my mind, while causing her greater anguish and pain.
With her passing, my grief is not just in losing my little girl, the dark-haired bundle of joy with huge brown eyes who entered our lives on Friday the 13th, a fact later reflected in her #LuckyLnze13 Peloton leaderboard title. It is so much more that she was unable to enjoy the pleasures of life she so richly deserved. There is no goodbye between a mom and her precious daughter but rather the pain of her absence tempered by the knowledge that she is finally at peace.
From:
Dad
Paul Clements
I remember holding Lindsay as a precious baby in my arms, moments after she was born. She was beautiful, she had a full head of hair, and she was quiet. We had a little girl to accompany her big brother. Our family was complete.
As Lindsay grew up, she wanted to try everything and everything she tried she poured her heart and soul into it to be the best she could possibly be. She was a gymnast, a swimmer, a runner, a cheerleader, in addition to her dedication to academic achievement.
I understand now that this was the only way she knew how to be acknowledged and recognized by others. In the recent past she has told me that she did it for us, for her Mom and Dad. I told her that I was proud of her anyway, regardless of how well she did in any of these endeavors.
I went to virtually all of her meets and competitions. I never did understand the subjective scoring in gymnastics, but I cheered anyway. I volunteered to be a lane timer at her track meets and swim meets so that I could be close to the action. She was an amazing runner. I went with her to the Illinois Wesleyan track to help her train for one of her 800m races. She gave me a three-quarter lap head start and still beat me to the finish line.
Lindsay broke the 14-year-old 800m track record at her grade school in Bloomington, IL. In her freshman year of high school, she ran individual and relay races that enabled her high school to win the State championship for the first time in years.
Lindsay was the brave one of the family. She was the only one of us who dared to learn to snowboard while the rest of us were content to stick to two skis! She would do the rides at Six Flags that none of us would dare to try. She loved it.
Her teenage years were tough. She began to struggle with Anorexia, and we seemed to drift from one treatment program to another, summer after summer for several years. We tried to support her the best we could, but I don't think we ever really understood the mental and physical torture she experienced during this time.
I cannot say enough about the way Lindsay excelled at work. She loved to get her projects finished early and beamed with joy when her process records were approved. She would call me every time to tell me. It meant so much to her. Her manager at US Bank told us that hiring Lindsay was by far the best decision she has ever made.
Throughout this time and despite the challenges, she never stopped thinking of others and trying to support them with gifts and surprises. She knew that I always like a sweet treat after dinner, so she would bake banana bread for me and always keep the refrigerator stocked with chocolate flavored desserts that I loved. She would visit the local chocolate factory store in Apple Valley, MN to keep me stocked up with my favorite candies. She was always so very thoughtful. That was her way of expressing her love and caring. I will never forget that.
Right up to the end she was gifting to her many friends that she met through running, Peloton and work.
Lindsay has been such an integral part of my life for the past 31 years. I did everything I could to protect her, to guide her, to encourage her and to support her. I wish I could have done more, but I don't know what.
I am missing her terribly and always will. She is part of me, part of my life. I will keep her by my side, she will go everywhere I go. I will never forget her.
I love you, Lindsay.
Dad xxxx
From:
Auntie Ash
Ashleigh Cox
My sweet princess, my “Special” niece. For once your Auntie Ash is struggling to get the words out.... I know that’s unusual right... your Aunty Ash not able to speak?!!! I am struggling because whilst I am trying to be brave, my grief is overwhelming, I am a fixer, someone who cares, I find a way to make things work, to overcome even the biggest of challenges.... But life gets in the way, and I wasn’t around to help you and for this I will always be sorry. In my heart I will treasure the fun times, your visits to the UK where we always just picked up that special “Auntie-Niece” relationship that we had, we didn’t even have to try.... It was just how we were.
We would talk, hug, walk and “be us”. We would cook together, and you would keep your “Beady eye” on me to make sure I wasn’t sneaking too many calories into the recipe. We had FUN and it was always hard to say “Goodbye”... but I knew I would see you again sometime, somewhere. So, we continued as usual... the odd message, the odd “my nails are the same as yours” pictures... until we saw each other again which was when I got the call from Lee to say you were unwell... so I jumped on a flight and “finally” made it over.
Despite you being unwell you made time for me, we laughed, went shopping, bought chocolate,
drank Caribou coffee, and hugged. You introduced me to the world of Gnomes and showed me your
beautiful home. We even managed to get some special “Us” time together one day when we sent Mum and Dad out on errands... I tearfully asked you what I could do to help, I am a fixer remember...we can do this together! I asked if you would go to treatment “just one last time for Auntie Ash”....I promised to come out once a month to see you, it wasn’t enough, your reply was clear, you wanted to be “Home”... you took me in your arms, wiped away my tears, hugged me close and selflessly comforted me, when I should have been comforting you. I knew in my heart you had made up your mind and it would soon be our hardest “Goodbye”. I will always be grateful for that “special hug”, for the comfort you gave me, for the silent “It’s ok Auntie Ash”.
My brave poppet, as I stroked your hair for that last “Goodbye” whispering “Its Ok” back to you... I found comfort in knowing you where no longer in pain, I found comfort in having told you in person how much I love you, I found comfort having been able to hold your hand in mine one last timw, I found comfort knowing we were just “Us” “Auntie-Niece”.
Precious girl, your “Auntie Ash” loves you, rest well knowing you were “Loved” and are now always in our hearts.
From:
Ali
Alessandra Cerri
My darling Lindsay, you are so loved by so many people. I’m so sorry I couldn’t take away your pain. I ran my first 10Km with you and I’m so thankful to have done it with you- I will hold onto that memory forever.
I want you to know that you hold a special place in my heart always. I will miss you dearly!
Your Cousin Ali
From:
Nati
Natalie Cerri
Dear Lindsay,
It’s strange to be writing this to you without you being here in real human form any more, but I know somewhere you will be able to hear this, as well as all the outpour of heartfelt messages sent by your friends and family.
I wish you could see and understand how much you were loved, but I know that the mind can work in mysterious ways and unfortunately you weren’t able to accept the love that was always there for you. I wish we had more time to spend together, to experience life together and to laugh together.
I’ll never forget the time you came to England and we went out to a bar and I made you order a jager
bomb to which you replied - ‘A JAGER BOMB? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? IS IT EVEN A REAL
DRINK?’. We laughed so much at that.
I’m so saddened that you’re not here any more...I still have that London Starbucks mug you wanted and I was waiting for the moment where we would be reunited so I could give it to you. Although what has happened has brought pain to those you loved you, I have been able to find some sort of solace knowing that you are now at peace with yourself and no longer struggling against what was clearly an extremely difficult illness.
Rest well my beautiful and sweet cousin - until we meet again (hopefully I’ll be able to finally give you that Starbucks mug!).
All my love,
Nat x
From:
Uncle Paul
Paul Matthews
It was with great sadness that we learnt of the passing of Lindsay - our niece from “across the pond” !!
Although separated by miles of ocean and only actually coming face to face on too few occasions she
was indelibly imprinted in our minds and tattooed on our hearts !! It is such a sorrow when a child passed before a parent or an older relative and that is especially true with Lindsay !!
She may never have known how much she was loved by her “English family”, how she was never far
from our thoughts and as her problems seemed to grow how close she was in our hearts and prayers !!
Unfortunately we never did get to fulfil one of her wishes which was to learn how to drive “stick”. A few conversations were had about coming to the UK where I, as a driving instructor, could give her the pleasure of learning something new and to achieve her goal of defeating the challenge!! Alas, this never was accomplished, and now she will need to learn a new skill of navigating with Wings !!
It was an absolute pleasure to have known Lindsay, my niece, and many words are spoken about how sad her passing is but perhaps there is truth in the belief that she is in a better place, for her, with family members who have gone before her, to light the way, and prepare her for the time when we will all be together again in what must surely be paradise !!
Farewell, for now, Lindsay. This is not goodbye, but a temporary parting of the ways. You will be missed but fondly remembered, mourned but still cherished and held with everlasting love in our hearts until the time we meet again !!
Rest easy princess in the knowledge that you will live on in our memories until it is our time to join you !!
