Written memories:

Here are the memories many of you sent in to be read at the service.
Unfortunately, we did not have time to read them aloud, but at least you can read them here, presented in alphabetical order according to first name.

It's never to late to add a memory. Simply send your memory to Paul via email (paul@mennen.org) and he will add it to this list of memories.



Alain Gbenouga

HISTOIRE!!!

“Our Own Ikse“

1) Our lives are passed stories God is telling in present. They that have gone ahead of us, before us, beyond the skies and horizons; have never gone, their spirits live in us, live with us here and there.

HISTOIRE!!!

2) Look! Take a deep breath for one minute, don’t imagine Ikse but see Ikse you love, you celebrate and you care for. See Ikse, right there!

HISTOIRE!!!

3) You see, you can only see what is, never what is not, nor what was not. What you can see is and is real. In fact, what is now, also once was. It is from spirit into body and from body into spirit.

HISTOIRE!!!

4) When I joined Voyageurs in 2021, the person I wanted to do like, serve like, engage like, lead like, counsel like, voyageurs like etc... is our own Ikse because Ikse, fully embody the spirit of our camp.

HISTOIRE!!!

5) Now, a piece of Ikse’s spirit lives in each of us and part of Ikse lives in another one, of our own: tograM.

Blessed
Ikse

By Alain, Voyageurs, Histoire-Raconte!

Arany Uthayakumar

To be friends with Ikse meant not only appreciating adventures in the literary sense, but also finding the adventure in each day—plucking blackberries right off the bush, jumping off a trampoline and feeling invincible, gifting each other homemade presents around the holidays—and navigating the exciting, frustrating terrain of writing. We were just two kids who dreamed of leaving behind words that would leave an impact in this strange and confusing world. What a gift it was to be seen by each other as kids, and found again by each other as adults. Our friendship contained chapters of childhood joy and innocence, encouragement through the growing pains of adolescence, and the dark, jaded humor honed by the harrowing plot twists life would offer in our late 20s. What a gift it was to laugh and cry in each other’s presence. What a gift it was to be Ikse’s friend.

Ikse shared a poem with me for my 29th birthday that they had written almost a decade ago, that I hope will bring you comfort, just as it has brought me.
This is just one of the many pieces of writing, storytelling, and beautiful marks that Ikse left in the world: Wild Rose.pdf

Beverly Glaser

In the time before Ikse, adventurer extraordinaire, there was bundle of joy, sweet Jenna, comfortable within the bosom of her large family. I’m sharing a small snippet of time she and I had together when she was barely two years old that opened my eyes to her exceptional nature and intelligence. I was in the Buffalo airport, looking for the arrival of Paul, Susan, Alex and Jenna on their way to baggage. As we spotted each other from across the room, Jenna broke into a run towards me and I swept her up. I commented to Susan she must be pretty trusting given she hadn’t seen me since babyhood. Susan replied no, she’s pretty particular who she lets pick her up. We then drove to her grandparents’ house in Williamsville, where we were all visiting.

Later in the week, I found myself babysitting Jenna while everyone was out of the house. We went downstairs to check on the laundry. There was a million things a toddler could get into in that basement, but Jenna was content to sit on a pile of sheets and watch intently as I folded. Making polite conversation with a barely two year old wasn’t what I was expecting, but now seemed warranted. I said to her, “ So, you got to fly on an airplane!” Her eyes lit up and she replied “ Akchee (actually), two airpaines!” I could hardly believe it. When most her age are lucky to master go-bye-bye, she was saying “actually” in a complete sentence. Her maturity, inquisitiveness and depth of her soul was apparent right from the beginning and continued throughout her life. There will never be another like her and we miss her terribly. Her memory is a blessing to us.

*Aunt Bev

Colin Connors

Dear Susan, thank you for sharing this tragic news. I am devastated to learn it. I knew Ikse as student in the Nordic Language House at UW where I worked, and as a close friend with whom I shared many meals, workout sessions at the gym, movie nights, cooking classes, concerts, etc. Your daughter was one of the most generous, optimistic, supportive, and kind people I knew in my time at UW, and the times I chanced to meet her after she graduated were precious to me. She was one of the good ones, and it always gave me hope to know that she was out there in the world doing good and spreading positivity. A light has gone out, and it breaks my heart to know it. Bless you for raising the child that you did.

Edith Badaud

Jenna

For us you were Jenna, you know how I couldn’t pronounce correctly Ikse. 

You arrived in our house in the end of 2012 August, the small village of Bois-de-Céné in France.

So shy and reserved, but with time you adapted to us. 

We tried to discover and show you our Atlantic coast. 

You became fastly our second daughter, all our family and friends appreciated your company.

Our friendship was very strong.  

At school you were a brilliant student and admired by your French teacher.

Marielle has been lucky to be welcomed by your parents and visiting you few times in your country. 

You wanted to show us also this country when you will have a job. 

Unfortunately, sickness came, but we saw you in France in 2022 October.

And then our turn to cross the Atlantic and support you for another chemotherapy, which was annoying you terribly because you couldn’t be with us as you wanted to.

You bring so much to our family.

We will never forget you. 

Your mum for heart and all the family.

Emilia Kaczynski

Thank you for sharing Ikse's ceremony virtually today. My heart is with Ikse's family, friends and the Voyageurs community. I will forever cherish the summer we shared at Voyageurs in 2015.

George King

Ikse was a light, and a kind and wonderful person but she was more than that as well. They were so strong. It would have been very easy for the little girl Jenna or the adolescent Jenna or the adult woman Ikse to be completely overshadowed and bowled over by her unbelievably brilliant brother and father and mother and she never was. She was just…powerful and I think that that power continues. Our hearts are broken for the loss but so enriched by the experience of knowing her and I'm grateful for that.

Gretchen Walker

Some of the fond memories of Ikse I will cherish and hold close are simple acts of kindness and generosity of spirit: Another special memory I have is of Ikse’s great love of the outdoors. Specifically, a hike, along with Solange, last October. A large fallen log was across the path. After several minutes of awkwardly lumbering myself across the log, I looked in the distance to discover that Solange and Ikse already had crossed the log quickly and easily and had further progressed to crossing an adjacent creek by effortlessly hopping over stepping stones. I never made it that far!

Ken Joy

The times we spent together were very few, fleeting. They were, though, filled with the joy of play. We met each other on the ultimate frisbee field, at a game I shared more with Paul. In this sport of ours, we refer to “the spirit of the game”, what I recall of Jenna/Ikse is that she lived that. I did not know her off the field but will hold my little memories tightly.

Marielle Badaud

Sis, I’m not ready to write this now. I don’t want to write this. I was not ready to let you go. I thought I was ready, but how can you be really prepared to lose someone you love.

My sister, my American sister as we said for long. I hope soon in French we will have a word for “sibling.” You know well our language and how it’s hard to separate gender.

I remember our last night together, and talking on the pillow with warm tears. We knew it was the last time together. It was a difficult good bye.

As you say before you left, you’ll be with us in our hearts each time we’ll think about you. But now we just have memories to remember you by.

I want to say thank-you to all of you who helped her until the end. We were so far, but we never stopped thinking about her.

Thanks to all of you, thank to you, sis, for being you and coming into our lives. 

Love you.

Maureen Madeiros

Two decades ago, Ikse was my fourth and fifth grade student, as that school had teams of educators teaching students over two years. I was fortunate to get to know the Mennen-Hough family well, and remained in touch with Ikse and Susan. So, twenty years ago this month, Ikse had just turned ten. I have vivid memories of this very intelligent, thoughtful, and inquisitive child, with a warm and sensitive heart. Petite with straight blonde hair, Ikse had an advanced vocabulary and wry sense of humor, and possessed a strong sense of social justice even at that young age. For example, when selecting roles for the class play, Ikse chose to be one of the strong ranchero wives who protested the limited roles for women on the cattle ranches, bringing a feminist perspective to early California history.

I also remember that Ikse was a very caring and empathetic friend, and in fact, Arany, who is with you today, was also my student in that class, and the two were very close. Just last February, Arany and Ikse visited me, and it was so wonderful to see them. They brought me boba and we caught up, talking about the small and big of life, including the diagnosis. One part of my brain knew it was the last time I would see Ikse. But it was incomprehensible—how could someone so young and seemingly so healthy be terminally ill? When we hugged and said goodbye, I could see it in Ikse’s wise gaze—we both knew it was goodbye forever.

As we deeply mourn the loss of such a beautiful soul, I know we are simultaneously immensely grateful for having had the rare good luck of crossing paths with the brilliant, introspective, adventurous Ikse.

Thank you for the opportunity to share my memories. Hugs to you all. Love, Maureen

Max Minichiello

It feels almost impossible to think of a single memory with Ikse to share with everyone, so I think I'm just going to share one of my earliest. When we first met, one of the first things we did together was decide that we should live together (with another person) in a triple room the size of a small living room that we affectionately called “The Box.” This decision was made after spending a week doing orientation at High Trails, with the main thing that we knew about each other was that we both enjoyed playing board games — I guess that’s as good a reason as any to move into a tiny triple bedroom. The memory in question is not that we lived in this situation together, though I do love that it happened, but it is actually from the end of our first week of working with students. Mallory, Ikse, and I trudged into our room after what felt like an impossibly hard week, feeling beaten down. We spent the next hour cuddled together on a single twin bed eating snacks, making the hardships from the past week melt away. I don’t really know how to finish this story off, but I think of Ikse frequently and wish I could be there in person with you all to celebrate them. I love you all, Max.

Mike Helmecki

Foremost, my deep condolences.

Ikse played on our 2024 Fall League Scantily Plaid ultimate frisbee team. Ikse came off the field after a characteristically strong point, and I asked, “How do you cram 400 pounds of mean and awesome into that frame?”

The team's motto has long been “Leverage Love.” You must lean on the trust and skill and grace of your teammates to succeed. I'm proud to have stepped on the field with Ikse, and for all my teammates to have enjoyed their trust and their skill and their grace in a final season.

Best regards,
Mike Helmecki
Scantily Plaid Ultimate

Ruth Huber

Thank you for livestreaming Ikse's memorial so I could watch from CA. It was both heartbreaking and inspirational. I hope to live the rest of my life with even a small fraction of Ikse's courage, joie de vivre, generosity and love. And the example of her friends and extended family was beautiful and heartening. May we all endeavor to repair the world and savor its beauty.

Shane Hyre

Ikse & I worked together for a few years. In a strong business in a challenging industry, working alongside of someone for a few years carried a lot of weight. I could share the half-remembered tales that were commonplace—the sudden snowstorms, the weekly assignments, the delays, the sunsets, the laughter, the tears, the daily predictably unpredictable demands of working outdoors, and working with children, and working outdoors with children.

Ikse and I did not exactly get along. I can only speak for my side — I had the best intentions and I believed in the work I was doing, and I did my best to support my team in their successful growth. But looking back, I was abrupt. I was direct. I was product oriented over process oriented.

Ikse would push back. Ikse wouldn’t bury their feelings. Ikse would express themselves. Ikse would make eye contact, smile, and say, “I hear you. I understand. I still don’t agree.” (And sometimes add, “And I think that is dumb.”)

And Ikse stayed. Ikse didn’t do what so many people with constructive feedback for a leadership team do: tell the team everything they are doing wrong and leave.

Nope, Ikse told us what we were doing wrong *and stayed.* And I had to respect that.

And life went on, and we went our separate paths. And nowadays, whatever job I am working, whenever I come into friction or conflict or miscommunication with a supervisor, some policy I don’t like, some procedure that seems arbitrary, some bureaucratic detail that makes my work experience unappealing or uncomfortable or tedious, Nowadays, I am haunted by Ikse. Nowadays? There is an Ikse on my shoulder that pushes me to say: “I hear you. I understand. I still don’t agree.” (And sometimes I just might add, “And I think that is dumb.”)

Victoria Petersen

Ikse and I met on the fencing team at UW Madison, and became friends as we both fenced the same weapon, foil. I think we really bonded through this activity because of the number of trips and tournaments we went on. We always were hotel roommates, and stayed close at the tournaments as we both tended to feel overwhelmed by the crowds at these events. We also bonded because we shared some similar struggles and frugal values — the classic “poor college student” vibe was strong with us! So while the rest of the team frequently would try to go out to nice restaurants to eat together, Ikse and I would often excuse ourselves in favor of a more affordable option. One time in particular I remember we were away at a tournament, in a hotel with a small kitchenette. We had the genius idea to make dinner instead of going out to buy dinner. As our ancestors before us, we walked uphill both ways in knee-deep snow to get to the nearest grocery store — a 20-minute walk made worse by the cold and snow, which we did not have boots or the right pants for. But we made it, bought some spaghetti noodles and frozen eggies, and pasta sauce, and trudged our way back to the hotel. As we made our tiny dinner (which we bought for under $20 total), we were exhausted and cold, but so proud that we had resisted the urge to spend money on eating out that we didn't have. In many ways, it was such a small thing to make spaghetti in a hotel kitchenette, but I will always remember this adventure because, frankly, we probably spent a lot more energy on this endeavor than we should have. But, when you're a poor college student, you do what you gotta do! 

When I think of Ikse, there are so many ways that I realize they've affected my life. I think of my time in college and how many wonderful memories we had on trips and at tournaments. I think of our frugal college struggles, and all the funny times we tried to be cheap together. I think of them just about every time I exercise or go to the gym, as Ikse was my self-proclaimed personal trainer as we prepped for fencing. I remember so well so many of the tips and things I learned about weight lifting and caring for myself, and many of their teachings circle around in my head to this day! Whenever I hike or spend time in nature, I think of Ikse and what I could have learned from them. As I've gotten into birding as a hobby, I imagine sharing it with Ikse and just enjoying observing the natural world together. Ikse was even in my wedding party, as someone I considered a best friend during a pivotal part of my life. There are so many small ways that Ikse still lives on in my life, and I will always be grateful for the time I got to spend with them. Even if it was shorter than it should have been. Farewell, my dear friend, and may your memory be a blessing to others as it has been to me.