Jojo began physical therapy when she was just 5 months old. It was then that the degree of her stubbornness became clear. When she didn’t want to do something, she let us know, with no room for ambiguity. She’s always been able to communicate this, without words. Her loud shriek, her cries, the look of fury on her face. We’ve always been torn over this stubbornness because while it slows down progress with PT and thus her development, it is a signal of her intelligence. I imagine this element of her personality is cemented and is part of who she is. She will live her life knowing what she wants and simply won’t do what she doesn’t want to do.
She is so much like her great grandmother Jeanette in that way. Jeanette left this world last Thursday at the age of 91. Her funeral was yesterday and I had the honor of giving the eulogy, which I wanted to share here:
“I am very lucky to have had Jeanette for my grandmother. I’ve spent a lot of time over the last few days thinking of Grandma and what she’s meant to me. What I keep coming back to is that house, right over on Chapman. This is a house that I’ve known my whole life. The house where growing up I spent pretty much every Christmas Eve, Thanksgiving, and countless other holidays with family. The only house that ever felt like home to me as much as my own house. The house where I don’t remember ever knocking on the door, but do remember that every time I stepped through the doorway, Grandma was on the other side smiling, hug awaiting, her joy in seeing me evident without her having to say a word.
Grandma was a creature of habit and she usually stayed close to home. She never learned to drive a car. When I was younger I didn’t understand this. I wanted to see the world and have grand adventures. Now, I see the wisdom in Grandma’s ways. Because what is adventure, or anything in life without love? And that is what Grandma is. She is love. She built a life and a family that was filled with love. The kind of love that was not always spoken, but demonstrated in a million different ways. The kind of love that transforms an ordinary house into a magical, safely cocooned home that gives comfort that can’t be sufficiently put into words.
Grandma was good at so many things. She was an excellent cook and is famous for her pies. She was a master of knitting and quilting. I think of her every time I cozy up in one of her afghans. And it goes without saying she was an expert mother, raising six boys to be exceptional human beings.
She was also very wise. She wasn’t an overly verbose woman, but she was easy company and a good listener. She would distill nuggets of wisdom whenever i was troubled. She always knew exactly the right thing to say, and said it in a way that there was no room for doubt. One time in particular I remember I was pregnant with my son, my first child. We were sitting on her porch. I was feeling huge and of all things to worry about, I was worried that the baby was uncomfortable, confined to such a small space. Very simply she said “that baby is where he is supposed to be”.
So on this day, as we grieve and feel loss for my grandma, Jeanette, it gives me comfort to think of her words. Now, she is right where she is supposed to be. I’d like to close with a poem that for me describes where that is:
I give you this one thought to keep.
I am with you still. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on the 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 think of me as gone.
I am with you still in each new dawn.
Author: Unknown, close variation by Mary Frye
Jojo The Strong 