Hanné Salim, 91, passed away Wednesday July 24, 2019 at her Laguna Beach residence after a long battle with cancer.

An extraordinary & incredibly genuine, generous, & caring human being, all wrapped with distinct grace, integrity, & humility. A very proud mother who every time she spoke of her two boys, it was always chorded with her signature smile.

Hanné was born in Saidoun, a small village cloistered high in the mountains of Lebanon. She married Tanos Kawand at 28, relocated to Beirut, where along with her spouse, grew the bedrock for the family. In 1985, after a decade-long vicious civil war that obliterated all they worked for, and after the long illness & death of her spouse, she permanently moved & lived in the US; first In New York, then New Jersey, and finally settled in California 17 years ago.After a long healthy life and a peaceful retirement, cancer set in, but she fought courageously, patiently, persistently, with utter focus and incredible determination, & most impressively, despite torturous pain & suffering, with grace & content.If she were to advise at this juncture, she would definitely say: you can remember me but forget my fate.

She is survived by countless sons & daughters, on both continents, as she unpretentiously & spontaneously adopted every single person she met.

Hanne's funeral & burial services will be held at Our Lady of Salvation Church in Saidoun, where she began her journey.


Poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die."