“Death leaves a heartache no on can heal; love leaves a memory no one can steal.”
That says it all. It came from one of Linda Visintainer’s beloved children, Laurie.
Linda left this world – and these mountains – on July 25, 2009. She was born in Flint, Michigan on January 3, 1940 to Joseph and Eva Roe Yott. The youngest child of five, Linda always seemed to be the feistiest of all, a trait that followed her through her life. Even her brother, Joe, said Linda was “a bit ornery.”
Linda Mary Yott wanted to become a doctor. “They” told her that she couldn’t be a doctor; no one took her seriously. Stubborn and resilient, Linda was determined. She ended up in nursing. But not before she raised five children.
At the University of Detroit, in the Student Union, Carl Visintainer sought Linda’s advice on how to date Linda’s best friend. Carl and Linda were married in 1961. We do not know the whereabouts of Linda’s best friend after that. Oh, well.
Linda started her educational adventures in nursing but later became interested in explorations and geology. She earned her B.S. in geology at Arizona State University and attended graduate school in paleontology at the University of Arizona. Did we mention that Linda was a nurse? That comes later.
Loving spouse, Carl, was working for State Farm Insurance. The company became their life together. State Farm took the couple and their kids from Detroit, Michigan to Rochester and to Battle Creek. State Farm took them again to Bloomington, Illinois and Albuquerque, and then to Phoenix. Ultimately, they retired together in 1995 and moved to Salem in 1996.
Throughout Carl’s State Farm adventures, Linda continued to explore, continued to be curious, and together, the couple raised a family.
Eva was first, then Michelle, then Laurie and Lindy and – alas – finally the son, Joe. Linda treasured each of her babies. A craftswoman and wood worker, she hand-crafted each of them a wooden cradle for the birth of their first child.
After the children were able to take care of themselves (and each other), Linda returned to school. She earned her nursing degree from Gateway Community College in Phoenix, Arizona and was determined to continue to care for the rest of the world.
All of Linda’s siblings survive her. They include Joan Weideman of Freedom, Pennsylvania; Joe Yott of Yucca, California; Patricia Gagnier of Rochester, Michigan; and Therese Calahan of Sterling Heights, Michigan. Linda was preceded in death by her beloved parents, Joseph and Eva.
Linda did a stint as a real estate agent, among other occupations. That was not her passion. What she loved most was nursing and being a mom. But not in that order. She was a great nurse. She was the best mom.
In addition to Carl, Linda is survived by the kids she loved to take on adventures and explorations: Eva (Mark) Ambrose of Canton, Michigan; Michelle (Kent) Contreras of Albuquerque, New Mexico; Laurie Carranco of Bakersfield, California; Lindy (Kayce) Turley of Taylor, Arizona; and Joe (Traci) Visintainer of Gilbert, Arizona.
“Mimi” was adored by her thirteen grandchildren: Nicole, Ben and Michael Ambrose; Carly and Matthew Contreras; Jackson and Michaela Carranco; Katie, KayLin and Ashley Turley; and Cade, Emma and Ryan Visintainer.
With her children and grandchildren, Linda continued to be the explorer. Her beloved Carl recently wrote “reminded once again that the greater the mountain, the deeper the valley. We are blessed to have shared a life of the greatest and most joyful mountains one can imagine.”
The mountain. The rock. The curious. The explorer. The care giver. The nurse.
Even after her retirement as a Registered Nurse, Linda continued to provide care – to her family, friends, neighbors and – most especially – to our pop, Carl.
The family will gather at 1:00 PM on Friday, July 31 at Virgil T. Golden Funeral Service in Salem. We would be honored and grateful if you could join us to celebrate Linda’s life.
Gifts in Linda’s memory can be made to the Salem Hospital Foundation Nursing Scholarship Fund, P.O. Box 14001, Salem, OR, 97309.
Love leaves a memory no one can steal.